Paya's Purpose
by GrayHuntress
Summary: The continuation of Paya's Blessing. Follow the girls on their Chiva and then into mating season. It's not what the High Council was expecting. A new Matriarch will be appointed. Further adventures of Sally, Sig'dan, Myn'dill, and all the rest. New romance. For mature readers, as usual. But we must start at the beginning...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter Zero: The Beginning of the Story – Changing Things**

**"One creates from nothing. If you try to create from something you're just changing something. So in order to create something you first have to be able to create nothing. "  
- Werner Erhard**

The small planet's days were numbered. There was no doubt, no discussion about this fact. Everyone understood it and everyone accepted it. The only question was what would be the best reaction to this - this unchangeable event that would bring about the end of life as everyone knew it.

The group of intelligent beings didn't have a name for themselves. They were the only ones it seemed, the only life in the entire universe. There were no other forms on their planet. There were only themselves, the rocky planet and the gaseous moist atmosphere that was their cradle.

Each day, the community met on the great plain to gather sustenance for the day. They gathered the sunlight for energy. From the planet they gleaned needed molecules to provide nutrients and solidity to their forms, and from the air they collected other rarer elements required for survival. There was peace and harmony in the gathering as they refreshed themselves and communed with each other. And it was on this great plain that they made their decision on what would be the best thing to do.

None of them had ever ventured from this planet. There had never been any reason to do so. They had always lived here, from the first moment they had become aware of themselves. And they had everything they needed here: food, moisture, light and the companionship of each other. So they did not know if it was possible for any of them to survive out there in the darkness with the little points of light. But they had speculated that if this planet existed, perhaps others were out there and perhaps they could support life. It was also a great concern that any other planets might have a limited lifespan and be vulnerable to destruction – as their home world was about to experience. After much thought and sharing of ideas, they came up with what they all agreed was the best possible plan. It was not without risk of failure, and it would be a costly plan to carry out. But they were of one mind in the belief that it was the only possible way to preserve their most important attribute – life.

They experimented at first, ascending higher and higher into the atmosphere assessing how their bodies reacted. What they discovered was that the elements forming the gaseous shell surrounding their planet thinned greatly the higher they went. The forces of the planet dwindled and the cold emptiness outside of their home became apparent. A way would have to be found to preserve at least some of them to go out into the deep and explore. If another place like their home world could be found, then perhaps it could support life. Their best minds eventually figured out such a way.

* * *

"Good Feeding," the polite address drifted to her as she lay spread out on the plain absorbing her daily needs. "Good Feeding," she responded, "We have not addressed before, have we?"

"No, we have not. I noticed you from over there," a waving protuberance formed and pointed to the ridgeline. "I finished feeding for the day and wanted to greet you. How are you called?"

"I am called Paya," she answered, congealing herself back into a denser form. "How are you called?"

"I am called Ceti," she answered. "I know you are aware of The Going Out. It has been decided that I am to serve. I am appointed to choose another – I choose you, if you are willing."

Paya rolled her edges as she immediately responded. "I am willing to serve the greater purpose. What must I do?"

"We will be embraced by the community and altered so that we may accomplish our mission. When the time arrives, we will leave this planet together and go out."

She understood immediately, but still asked, "Go where?"

"Out there," Ceti again formed a protuberance and pointed to the stars. "Out there we will search for planets similar to this one and when, or if, we find them we will release the elements of life. If we are successful, our kind will go on, inhabiting many worlds and never again will everyone be threatened by utter destruction."

"I am ready," indicated Paya.

"We are ready." Ceti spoke to the community. Immediately, the plain undulated with the movement of everyone. They encircled the two and covered them, layers deep, forming a brilliant cocoon of transformation. They did not feed or rest as the sun crossed the plain, set and then rose again. As a community, they imbued the pair with all the knowledge, sustenance and energy their forms possessed. To Ceti they gave great strength and bravery, to Paya they gave the gift of endless energy with which to tend the fire of life. They also gave the pair many other as-yet unnamed characteristics which would slowly reveal themselves in the long voyage ahead. Together the group of beings worked out the altered forms of Paya and Ceti, each giving of themselves until they were nearly gone. By twilight of the following day, the metamorphosis was complete and the great pupa opened. Ceti emerged first, followed by Paya. In the light of the setting sun they admired each other.

"Ceti, you are darker…thicker. I observe that you have a greater substance and you are not as malleable as before. There is something else different about you, but I am unable to describe it."

"Yes," he answered. "And you are larger now, and so beautifully bright!"

The community interrupted them, "You have both been changed to ensure the survival of life. Here are your instructions. When you are ready to travel through the great darkness, you will merge your bodies together and form a shape suitable for this travel – a great vessel of life. You will find that Ceti will provide the physical substance and strength of this vessel. It is Ceti's task to protect life - the spark of life that will be carried in you, Paya. You will travel with Ceti until a planet is located. You will both evaluate the planet's potential for life to be seeded there. If you agree that it is unfavorable, you will pass it by and continue searching. If you agree that it is favorable, according to the factors you now have engrained within you, you will separate on the planets surface and then work together to seed the planet with life. All patterns for working together are implanted within you. They will present themselves when the time and conditions are correct and you will find it simply to follow them. It is now time for you to leave."

The structure of the cocoon crumbled as Ceti and Paya began to circle each other. It was a perfect circle, if anyone had cared to measure it. As they circled, they moved closer and closer until they intermingled and finally merged – sliding their atoms past each other in the vastness of inner space. When the pattern was complete, a sleek dark shape, tapered at one end and wider at the other, hovered above the ground. Traces of Paya's light could be seen emerging from the wider end as her endless energy would propel the vessel that was the two of them. The vessel began to rise from the surface and the narrowed end lifted to point the way. It began to vibrate as Paya built her energy and then, faster than anyone could follow it, shot into the darkness and was gone.

The community relaxed, so much of their energy depleted from providing for Ceti and Paya. They remained calm, waiting for the end. It would happen quickly from their point of view, but if there would have been anyone else watching they would have waited eons for the little rocky planet circling the edge of the singularity to be pulled inside.

The vessel streaked silently through the darkness. Time had no meaning. There was no setting and rising of the sun, no gathering of the community to feed and share thoughts on the plain. As they traveled, Ceti and Paya spoke to each other, exchanging many thoughts, and many ideas. They came to understand some of the changes within each of them. Where before, they had been much the same, they were now rather different both inside and outside. Ceti's mission was to protect the elements of life - to defend and provide the physicality of The Project. Paya was to nurture the spark of life and when the time was right, combine it with what Ceti provided to give each favorable planet the beginnings of life. Their kind would be spread through an untried and untested mechanism. It had been discussed that each favorable planet might provide slight or major differences in how the seeds of life developed there. Even if that happened, the community knew that at the very basic level – all life would be related and could trace back to them.

Paya felt Ceti slowing down. "There is a planet! We will be there shortly to begin checking to see if it could sponsor life." They made three orbits around the large orb below them. It was much larger than the homeworld had been and was strangely divided between a major dry area that took up the middle and bulk of the surface, and vast fields of ice at each end of the rotational axis.

Ceti felt Paya's sadness, "This planet could be a wonderful place for life, but needed sustenance is bound in the ice instead of being distributed. The ice melts along the edge, but the water drips down into the ground right there and disappears. I wish there was a way to bring it to the bulk of the planet. The elements of life might thrive here, then."

Ceti told her. "Let us think of a way to change this planet, and then perhaps it will be more favorable."

"Is that allowed?" she asked, searching the mission's parameters. "I cannot find anything regarding this. Would it be within the definition of…honor... to alter what we find?" She directed her concept to his receptors and fed him her new thoughts.

"I cannot find anything in our instructions regarding it," he replied. "So, I must assume that it is allowed if we think it is a possibility. Perhaps this is the only planet we will come across! What a shame to waste it. We would be lacking this new thought form you call 'honor' if we did that."

"Agreed," Paya replied. So they worked out an idea together and then went down to the surface where they separated. It felt very odd to be apart after spending so long as a single physical being. She watched as Ceti reformed himself into a true solid and burrowed down under the ground along side the ice. He was gone for several cycles of the planet's sun. When he returned he went to another place alongside the ice and burrowed down. Again he was gone for several days. He did this over and over until there were eight great underground channels to river the water away from the ice as it melted.

"Where does the water go?" she wondered.

"It rises to the surface near the middle of the planet. There it will provide a place where the planet, the water and sunlight mingle – all the necessary elements to feed. That is where we must seed the planet. It will be some time before enough water accumulates. Let us rest on this planet until that time comes."

So they did, conversing with each other as always. They explored the vast desert, as a strange curiosity overcame Ceti. He wondered what all of the planet looked like. They also wandered over the polar ice caps. Sometimes they rejoined to form a single body just because it was comforting to do so. Paya sorted and maintained the lighter elements she carried, along with the spark of life. Ceti organized and ordered the heavier elements he carried and found himself looking out for Paya's comfort and any problems that might arise. They shared their thoughts frequently about the planet and the life that might grow there.

One day she asked him, "Do you think that the beings that grow from what we plant here will retain any knowledge of us?"

He thought for a time as this was something he'd not considered. "Certainly we may never pass this way again. We cannot teach them about where they came from. What a loss!" He felt mournful. Paya felt his sorrow.

"Ceti, I cannot bear for you to feel this way! I will engrave a core memory of us within what we leave here. I do not know what they will remember of us, but something will be retained and if we were ever to return, we might be able to find it."

"That pleases me," Ceti beamed at her. "I picked the right one to join me on this adventure."

"Your words please me," Paya replied. "That day, why did you pick me out of all the others? You could have picked anyone."

"I know. I have pondered this often. There was something different about you, Paya. You stood out to me – perhaps you were softer, or lighter. I'm not certain. But I know that I made the best choice."

"I've never thought of myself as different from any of the others. Now I find that I'm pleased that you chose me, Ceti. And there is no where I would rather be than with you."

"Not even deep in a black hole?" he teased.

"Not even there," she answered, a certain softness coming over her edges that had not been there before.

He looked at her as though she were new and beheld her beauty – both inside and out. "It is time," he stated, "the joining pattern appears."

She responded by spreading out, a luminous beckoning to her body that was ripe with the promise of life. He went to her and pressed a projection of himself into her. Her body rippled in response. "Did I cause you distress?" he asked.

"No, it is unexpectedly pleasurable!" came the answer.

In this form they joined, as Ceti placed within Paya's body his contribution to life. Then, still attached, they lifted into the air and skimmed over the surface following one of the underground rivers until they reached where it spewed water out over the surface. It was in this place that they consummated the joining pattern as the elements of life rained down from Paya's body onto the puddles of water below, surprising them both with feelings of pleasure.

When they were finished, they separated, Ceti withdrawing his body from hers. Paya reached a tendril of herself to caress the darker shape of Ceti. "I have no way to tell you how I feel. I wish to be with you forever."

"I am pleased with your wish," he replied, "I have no way to tell you my feelings either – they are quite new to me. We will have the time to invent ways."

They rejoined into the vessel, lifting from the surface and continued their search into the darkness. They traveled immeasurable distances and found many planetary bodies both suitable and unsuitable for life. The unsuitable ones they would pass over quickly. The suitable ones they would explore and seed with life. Then they would rest for a time, trying to imagine how life would grow in this place and what changes the environment would wrest from it.

Eventually they came to a small yellow star with many planets circling it. On the third planet out from that star they found an amazing place where the mass of water surpassed the mass of dry land which was gathered together in one place on the surface. It was a beautiful sight to behold, the extreme blueness of the world with one blob of brownish rocky land. It was orbited in turn by a single cratered moon. "This looks promising," observed Paya, as Ceti moved them into an orbit.

"This place has great upwellings from below the surface, and see, the land is not a single mass but plates that have the potential to move about. Will such a precarious place do?"

Paya's tinkling voice laughed at him, "Life will rise to such a challenge. I foresee bold explorers and forms as varied as the stars emerging here. I only hope that the beings that emerge here realize the preciousness and beauty of this jewel of the universe that they will dwell upon."

"Come then," Ceti extended himself to her even as they separated. "Let's find just the right place for me to gift you with my elements!"

"You are always so eager!" she exclaimed, reaching part of her self to be enveloped within his grasp. "But then so am I each time," she admitted. "Such a gift the others gave us – this ability to bring together new life from an act of extreme pleasure between us. Do you think they understood how wonderful it would be?"

"I have no idea," he admitted, pulling her towards the great puddle ahead of them. "Look here! It is similar to the home world, isn't it?"

"A perfect place!" she beamed at him and began caressing him with the length of her body. "We are the first beings in this place, my love. This is the eve of life here." And with that, all words ceased until Paya birthed the elements of life into the warm pond.

"Go!" cheered Ceti, at the elements acclimatizing to the water, "Form the first life upon this place and multiply!" They both watched as the elements danced into the form of the familiar double helix that was their combined signature. The molecules joined and formed a barrier between the within and the without as the beautiful tiny life form began to take on a green coloring and then divide.

"What an amazing beginning!" Paya exclaimed. "And from this, intelligence will grow? Self-awareness?"

"It will, my love. Have faith that it will. We should depart. We've lingered a long time here."

"I know, but it was beautiful to watch!"

They merged together and the great vessel ascended into the clouds to continue the journey. Below, the cluster of cells kept merrily dividing even as some of the daughter cells began to change, following the pattern implanted within.

**A/N: I've wanted to write this bit for some time, but had to await the right opportunity. Hope you enjoyed my little foray into 'creation'. Not the ultimate first one, of course. And there are my usual hooks into the other stories here, if you can find them.**


	2. Chapter One: Learning to Fly

**Chapter One: Learning to Fly**

"_**A single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. To live is to be slowly born." – Antoine de Saint-Exupery**_

The young female stood in front of the mirror over her sink, critically examining herself. She turned her face from left to right, taking in the strong smoothness of her jaw line. No mandibles were in evidence, the tiny ones that had threatened eruption when she was eight had eventually withdrawn, but the powerful jaw joint could have certainly hefted a set, she decided. Her mother was right. She did favor the aliens in appearance. She was thicker and coarser than the fully human mothers she had grown up with who were her defining models of femininity. The female had always longed for their thinner faces covered with soft skin rather than fine scales, as well as their petite fingers that ended in flat skin-like hardness. Running strong clawed hands over her bald forehead, she smoothed across the surface of her thick locks, appreciating their ruddy sleekness. If there was one thing she fancied about her looks, it was the collection of red 'hair' bequeathed from her mother. It made her stand out from the rest of the children with their dark, nearly black locks or groups of hair frizzle. Although they appeared primarily Yautja, the random hybridization had produced every variation among them. Now, with all the young males of the group gone – put to death by their Yautja rescuers – only the females remained and the width of variation had narrowed. She was fortunate, she supposed, to be a female.

Only a few months ago they had lived beneath the ruins, deep in the Yaut jungle. Led by her mother, Duncan, a police officer from Earth who had been kidnapped and then abandoned along with other women by a band of rogue Yautja for procreation purposes, they had been ruthlessly abused by their own male offspring. Half-human and half-alien, the sons and brothers of the group had turned upon their own females as lords and masters when the unchecked hormones of adulthood had come upon them.

So now here she was, rescued but pregnant by a young male from their little band. Pregnant with what would probably be another male abomination that death would rescue from the punishing trials of Yautja life. She looked down at her yet unbulging anatomy, fully conscious of the new life that had so recently begun inside. With the attentiveness to the new life came the realization that something was wrong, very wrong. Suddenly, she didn't feel so well and made for the comforting darkness of the bed furs pulled over her head. There was no pride, nor joy in the prospect of bringing another into the world that would possibly be taken from her and destroyed. She clenched her hands to her belly as a sharp cramping gnawed at her insides, causing her to curl up like a frying bacon rind.

"Mom!" she cried out, unable to deal with the intense pain and yet aware that something was amiss. "Mom!"

Across the open space that connected the different sleeping quarters, Duncan sat chewing on a slightly torn fingernail trying to reach a decision. They had offered to let her go home after all. Through all these years of raising their children and then suffering under the rule of their sons, Duncan had kept the goal in mind that she would one day return to Earth. It was only on Earth that she could teach her beloved children about civilization, proper manners and how to behave in polite society. Earth was her salvation – everything would be alright once they reached it. She would have dutifully hushed her complaining family had it not been for one unchangeable fact - her scarlet-headed daughter.

Duncan wondered at how the fates had allowed the genes to express themselves in such a wondrous and beautiful way, for her daughter was not only stealthy and also far stronger in her near-adulthood than anyone realized, but she was fair to look at. The shining, fairly scaled complexion was topped by a burnt-crimson crown which balanced a set of smoldering green eyes strikingly ringed with an amber-brown edge. Her troupe of women followers had often commented on the girl's looks as she matured. The growth of her ample hips had fleshed out in advertisement of her child-bearing abilities such that even her slightly younger brother had not escaped the inviting fascination she unwittingly broadcast to all males within her sight. Then her first fertile time had struck and with it a pack of huffing followers that her loyal brother had beaten, each in-turn, into bloody submission. When he had cowed the last one, he lifted his face to the sky and screamed like something possessed. For indeed that is what he was. He turned to face his once-defended-but-now-prey with a face twisted by an unknown need, and then dragged his own sister into the dark of his sleeping corner. The rest Duncan cared not to recall as she and the other females battled the crazed males who in the heat of mating frenzy had turned on the rest of them, but a voice from the past broke through calling, "Mom!"

Coming to her senses she hurried as fast as her aged body could haul her to the sleeping room of her daughter. "What is it, Chance? Are you alright?" She saw the girl twisted into a pretzel, groaning on the bed as her furs sprouted a trail of blood and amniotic fluid. "Oh God," Duncan exclaimed. "Hold tight while I call for help, Baby!" She hit the com and screamed for help which the Hunter on the other end could not understand. But her yells conveyed the idea of an emergency and so a cluster of guards and a Healer were soon on the scene. Duncan dug her nails into her palms as she watched the large Yautja examine her daughter.

"Let me look at you," the rumble directed her. Chance felt herself tighten at the anticipation of rough handling. "I will not harm you," the large Hunter stated in perfect English. Instead of continuing to touch her, he ran a device over her body several times, checking a read-out and pressing controls on it with a curved black claw. "Your pup is abnormal," he reported, "and it has died. Your womb is expelling the body which is perfectly normal. Expect to have more contractions and discomfort as you rid yourself of the remains. If you prefer, I can give you medication which will cause your body to expel it all at once, rather going through the possibly long time required to deal with it. I must warn you however, the process is painful."

He looked at the young female as she clutched her abdomen and bent over her own lap. If her face had not been contracted in pain, she would have been most attractive. He leaned in to her as her voice grunted a reply, "Yes, I would like to get this over with as soon as possible. I don't care how much it hurts."

"An admirable attitude and most practical," he observed. He prepared the injection and then shoved the needle into her neck. Chance barely winced as she felt the cold liquid enter and dive down to the center of her cramping. The speed and strength of the subsequent contractions left her breathless. In the next few minutes of grunting and moaning, the pup destined for death and all its surrounding supporting liquid and tissues had been passed. Chance lay on her side as Aseigan were called in to clean up the mess. They moved to assist the girl to the bath, but she balked. The servants were strangers, and aliens at that. She would not let her guard down around them in order to be bathed.

"I'll help her," Duncan offered, relieved to finally be able to provide some help.

"She is very brave," intoned the Healer. "Contact me if she begins bleeding again. She must rest for the next cycle, possibly two. She needs to eat and drink to keep her strength up and heal."

Duncan nodded her understanding and muttered, "Uh, thanks for coming and seeing to her."

"It was my honor," he nodded and then made to leave.

"Wait…please," came from the elderly woman. The Healer stopped mid-track and turned around.

"Is there something else required?" he asked, his quizzical eyes looking down on her.

"I need to know – was the baby a male or female?"

The huge Yautja nodded, "Understandable. It was a male. Count yourself as blessed by Paya." He whirled and was gone, snatched quickly away by the report of an injury to a pup-in-training who had clumsily run his foot through with a blade in the public kehrite. His foot would mend, but the incident would probably haunt him forever in the jokes of his Clan brothers. It had been some time since any Hunter had borne the nickname of 'foot-slayer'.

The Healer made hastily for the scene of the accident, wondering about the lovely red-locked female he had assisted through a miscarriage. The pup had been grossly malformed and unfit for life. Even at its still miniscule and undeveloped stage he had been able to observe the problems. Its disorganized form would not have sustained life. Fortunate for all that her body had decided the pup was not worth any further investment and had shed it from the womb. The terminated pregnancy was most definitely not her fault. The Sire had been too closely related, he was able to determine. This was solid evidence of the rumors he'd come across about how this band of outcasts had lived. He shook his body in a shiver of distaste and then decided to run some further analysis of his scans of her – did she possess the major genetic markers of being a Yautja? It might be that she could become a valuable part of the program to recreate their females. Even though she was the offspring of a BadBlood – if her lineage proved robust it would be valuable. Dropping by the Hall of Healers, he dropped off his test results and recommended analysis, then continued on to the arena. Healer Sig'dan was thankful that his own offspring, Signy would we well on her way to Chiva soon and was beyond the painfully awkward days of first training.

* * *

The Elite Elder Arbitrator looked over the collection of youthful females before him. Grouped by threes, they formed the Hunt packs that would soon embark on the sacred mission of Chiva. Originally, there had been twenty-one females which would have made seven complete sets of Huntresses. But one, Doru, had perished in battle when she was still quite small. So now there was an unprecedented decision to be made.

All of the females borne by the Matriarch and Melanie had qualified for Chiva. So everyone knew that all must attend. However, a Chiva hunting party was traditionally made up of three. Two would not suffice, and four would be too many. Long, long ago the wise Clan Elders had arrived at three for the optimal Hunt size – and so three it was and would be – forever more.

When the captured ooman females had been discovered living under an ancient temple to Paya in the jungle of Yaut, it had not gone unnoticed that one of the offspring was a comely half-Yautja female who had taken quite well after her Sire. It was true that he had been a BadBlood and the offspring of a BadBlood was forever marked by his, or her, shame. But these were not usual times. Because of the need to replace the extinct Yautja female as quickly as possible, and to provide a wide gene base in that population, the High Council was considering letting the hybrid offspring of a BadBlood participate in Chiva. The debates were still ongoing, the rhetoric loud and fierce, while the Trainers continued to prepare the teams for their trial of adulthood.

The hybrid female, Chance, was a striking fusion of Huntress and humanity. She was not as tall as the others because there had been no medical intervention to assure that all the Yautja characteristics came to the forefront in her particular DNA cocktail while still in the womb – but the lack of assistance had not diminished her muscularity. Bearing only the suggestion of Yautja heritage in her wide strong jawline, her face featured a small, pert nose and actual human lips over somewhat pointy teeth. However, her hairstyle definitely favored her Sire. The significant forehead went back in hairless smoothness to the locks that ringed her crown in a horseshoe shape and spread down the back and sides of her head. Each lock was as smooth and thick as a normal Huntress, but instead of being as black as night they were each a rich auburn which complemented her lustrous and finely scaled pale skin. Her appearance was considered bizarre by some and exotically attractive by others.

More importantly, her natural strength and hunting abilities were noticed soon after her arrival at the city and talk began that she might be a candidate to be trained. Her ooman Bearer had voiced some objection but was soon convinced otherwise by the Matriarch. She would be at a disadvantage of course, beginning her training so late in life, but if the best trainers were assigned and she worked very hard, she might excel in her learning and eventually be fairly caught up with the others. Now, Aldúlfr waited word from the High Council regarding training and joining her with the under-numbered Chiva team. How much of a disadvantage would she handicap that team, he wondered. It would be a hurried task to educate her and then work them as a group, while the others had been teamed up already for nearly twenty cycles, tracking and hunting together as they learned to trust each other and work as a unit. He searched the rosters via his wrist com for the finest to train her.

* * *

"We're going to be held up," growled Ulfrde to her sister. "That pauk-de hybrid offspring of Duncan has been deigned worthy of training. She is younger than us, but older than the current class of trainees. They should have shoved her to the back of the class and let us continue on schedule!" Her outburst was punctuated by the slam of her fist on the desk where Arndís was reading.

Looking up calmly at the fist brandisher, Arndís replied, "That would leave one of our teams without a third, which is unacceptable. You know that." She raised an eyebrow at her overwrought sister and then went back to her tome.

"Am I the only one upset about this?" Ulfrde roared back, her crown beginning to bristle. "We have trained long and hard to be ready for Chiva, and now to have it delayed? Is no one else affronted by this insult?"

"Probably not," her sister answered casually, still apparently focused on her reading. But Ulfrde knew better. Her sister was watching every move and fully ready to defend herself if Ulfrde's blustering turned to blows. Arndís cocked one eye and evaluated before adding fuel to the fire, "We all understand the importance of the Hunt mission of three, as well as the promise of new genes to the breeding program."

The stronger female's fists clenched into weapons as her sister's remark was processed, but she held back. Arndís was not stronger, but she was taller and could leverage herself well. Years of training together had taught them both all the other's moves and most matches ended in the draw these cycles, unless Ulfrde was unexpected and swift. She would be neither right now. Slowly, she relaxed her urge to attack the insulter, knowing that full mastery of her reactions would come in time as she matured. This moment was merely another in which to practice. "I would die before dishonoring the Chiva! New genes? I'm certain that the offspring of a BadBlood and an untried ooman will add vast new vistas to our Bloodlines!" She spread her face in defiance of her sister's calmness, a show all too familiar to Arndís who was immune to her sister's emotional outbursts.

"Honorable Duncan is far from untried. You are simply unhappy because you are ready to Hunt and now you must wait."

Ulfrde grimaced at the truth. She was a young UnBlooded female in her prime, raring to Hunt and then breed. Any delay was nearly unbearable. She had long admired her sister's ability to distance her emotions from events and take whatever happened in stride. Arndís' coolness often gave her the edge over her challengers and also impressed some of the Elders as a maturity that she did not truly yet possess.

"Look at it this way," Arndís borrowed a phrase from their Bearer, "it will give our team more time to work together before we go to Chiva. What can be wrong with that? When we finally Hunt for the right to wear our Clan mark, no other team will be as cohesive as ours. Perhaps that will enable us to take even more trophies. Try to see what is right with this situation, not just what is wrong," she gently chided.

Ulfrde felt her sister's correction as though Sally herself had given it and gracefully bowed her head. "I know my impatience shows. I feel as though I will burst through my scales if I have to wait another cycle, Arndís. Don't you feel it too?"

"I don't know if we feel exactly the same, but yes, I do feel the need to begin this Hunt and then to mate – if that is what you are speaking about."

"Pauk-de hormones," Ulfrde replied. "If only I could bury myself in study as you do, then perhaps I could survive this!" She dramatically flopped down on a large bench beside her sister.

"Do not think this is simple for me," retorted Arndís. "If not for my lessons in self-control do you not think that I would march into the High Council meeting, right now, and claim a High Elder for myself?" She chortled smugly at the image of herself striding proudly into the chamber and marching right up to **him** with a hard smack to his bulging chest. The scent of pre-arousal eked into the room causing Ulfrde to jump up, "Ya!" she whooped, "I knew you had a bad case for him! Now you confirm it!"

Arndís quickly regained her composure, "I don't know who you are speaking of! One of the High Elders is merely the most logical choice." She huffed in self-consciousness and tried to refocus on her reading.

"You don't fool me for a moment!" snickered Ulfrde, sending a stream of clicks into the air. "I know you all too well. Perhaps I shall inform him of your intentions so that he may be fully…prepared." A huge grin overtook her face as her upper mandibles smiled broadly. There was nothing Ulfrde relished as much as teasing her unflappable sister.

"If you do," Arndís raised her voice, "I'll…I'll…I will cut one of your locks off and wear it for a trophy!" The weak threat of temporary disfigurement only made Ulfrde chortle harder. She trembled in mock terror and then jumped up, circling her seated sister as if to charge, all the while shaking in pretend fear. The problem was that her laughter was causing more shaking then she had intended and she was wobbling like a drunken Elite Guard.

Not amused by her sister's satire, Arndís stood up, looked down her face and then stalked off, calling over her shoulder, "Of course, I would never think of telling a certain Trainer that your loins call to him!" Satisfied with the sudden halt to Ulfrde's antics and the look of genuine horror on her face, Arndís tossed her locks and left the room. That should calm down the 'little terror' as their Bearer, Sally, had referred to Ulfrde when she was about two. Arndís thought the title especially fitting at times like these.

_How does she know? _Ulfrde's first thought brought her body to a complete standstill. _I have been so careful to never, to never ever…let it show. Our first duty is to complete Chiva. Only afterwards are we allowed to mate! _She tried to discipline her thoughts with a headshake, but soon slipped in to the satisfaction of memories…

"You throw well," was his offhand comment. Ulfrde had just completed her first throw of the chakt-ra, sending it in a wide circle within the enclosure and then on trajectory back to her hand. He watched as she carefully caught it for the first time and lost none of her hand to its sharpness. "Very good!" he encouraged, giving her a slight smile. Then his hand moved toward her shoulder as if to shake it, but his attention was caught elsewhere by the screech of a missed catch and he bounded off to check on the wounded. She watched him run over to her clumsy sibling, who was holding the stump of a finger and watching the detached digit flex on the floor.

He was one of the largest Hunters she knew or indeed had ever seen - larger than many on the High Council, in fact. Why he had not applied to the Council was a mystery to her, but then she realized she didn't know his age. Perhaps he was only a giant. Still, he was older compared to her, and that drama of an older, capable male of prime age and ability called to her reproductive organs as clearly as any Master called for his servants. She watched him gracefully sprint to her whining sister and call for the Healer. Honorable Sig'dan was on hand to reattach the freshly cut finger and insure that it would heal. "Next time you will be more careful," her Hunter patted the weak whiner on the top of her head as one would a tiny pup. Clearly, there was no attraction there, but the fact that he had touched and comforted another was not lost on Ulfrde.

All night long, her freshly aroused senses replayed the scene - first his nearness to her, his words of approval and then the rich maleness that had enveloped her scent glands when she huffed him in. He had been so close. He almost touched her! Not the head pat of a superior to a mere pup, but the shoulder shake of one adult to another. Did he think of her as grown? Her knees knocked with excitement as she recalled the proximity of his body and his aborted reach for her. She recalled his graceful run across the floor and how smoothly he knelt down next to her sister. She traced down the exposed parts of his body, each muscle outlined to perfection. His every move and every gesture, along with his words had been committed to deep memory. Only to be played back at times such as the present when she allowed herself to fully sense the ghosting of his former close presence and remember the taste of the scent of his body. How long had she felt this way about him? How long had he been noticing her? _And how in Hel does SHE know? _Ulfrde's tusks clashed in anger at the though of being discovered. This was her personal affair and none of Arndís' business! Would she actually tell him? _I'll rip her arms off and stuff them up her ass! Am I embarrassed about desiring him? He is not the highest ranking male that I could rightfully claim. In a fair match, I would give Arndís a good fight for her longed for mate! Who have I been matched up with anyway? Does Mom know? _Hurriedly, Ulfrde set off to hunt down her Bearer.

* * *

Matriarch Sally was currently attending the shouting match, erstwhile meeting of the High Council, to determine if Duncan's daughter, Chance, would go into training. She and Duncan sat next to each other on the sidelines as one after another of the High Elders spoke. Theron watched with them, quietly interpreting for the women from the low rumbles, clicks and growls of each High Elder.

To Duncan, they all looked alike. Each alien-made mountain of flesh stood in turn and had his say on her daughter's fate. Each one had those fleshy braid-like structures pouring down from the edges of his cranium and they all looked the same – glistening, frosty white. They all had an immense and heavy set of exterior jaws that opened and closed like some great trap to threateningly emphasize their speech. And then she noticed that each whale of an Elder wore a long red Superman cape. She almost snorted aloud at their cartoon attire. But her innate fear of the race that she had only experienced as brutal and cruel kept her silent. _Tuskers, _she thought, _those are real tuskers!_ The broad jaws looked as if only a very large Samson could have slain an entire army with them. _Besides, I don't know if his words qualify his jaw to be used in that way. _She turned her attention back to the oddly gray-colored alien who was interpreting for them.

The current speaker was arguing that no opportunity to expand the gene pool could be missed, not even for the sake of punishing the lineage of a BadBlood. She could almost feel some of the others in the audience gasp at his words. _Sally tells me that these guys are very focused on tradition. For them to allow my daughter to become part of their society would be something completely new – so new that she doesn't know if it will fly with these traditionalists. Even if there is scientific prove that it's a good idea. All I know is what I want for Chance. Come on, Tusker – plead with these guys – convince them! Do it and I won't recommend your jawbone as belonging to an ass. _

There was only the sound of the High Elder retaking his seat when his discourse came to an end. The others seemed to be reflecting and no one moved to request the floor. The mountain who was in charge, according to Sally, turned to her and said something. Sally responded with a slight nod and then turned to Duncan, "The Leader wishes to know if we have any words to add to the testimony."

"Words to add?" Duncan seemed confused. "What in hell would I say? I just want what is best for my daughter! How would my words have any influence on them?"

"They respect us because we are females and mothers," Sally explained. "Our words carry weight. If you have something to say, here's your chance! Remember they value honor."

Warily, Duncan stood. Made brave in this moment by her love for her daughter and the understanding of what seemed best for her future. "Say your words slowly," the gray Hunter spoke, "I will translate for you."

Duncan felt befuddled. She was not a public speaker and had precious few opportunities to address anyone in such a forum. Her last public address had been to testify in a court case. Deciding on that for her model of decorum, she faced the Council. "Your Honors," she began. Theron shot her a brief glance but quickly determined the gravity of her address. "Honorable High Council," he began. Duncan reached deep within and found the waxing inspiration that only comes to those desperate for the good of their children.

"I am the mother of Chance. The young woman you are considering allowing to become a part of your society. As a mother, I could speak for her good qualities, including her strength, her bravery, her intelligence and maturity. But you would probably just conclude that these are the slanted observations of a mother who greatly loves her child. In that observation you would be somewhat correct. I do love Chance – more than my own life. However, I loved all our children – even the ones who became bad. I did not love their deeds, but I loved them. Can you understand this? I hoped for the best for each of them. I tried my best for each of them.

"So let me not speak of how I value Chance, since my opinion is biased. Let me instead speak of her Father." The Council nearly came to its feet as all members leaned forward to hear this unexpected direction of testimony.

"I understand that what he did was wrong according to the laws of your society. It was wrong according to the laws of my society as well. However, I witness to you his incorrect decision was made for what he considered the best of reasons. He cared for those under his command. He cared for me. Yes, he took me against my will, which is wrong. But he looked out for me, he cared for me. He ensured that I was well and when needed, he even carried me upon his back. He was not totally without honor.

After we landed on Earth, and one of the women was injured in the landing. He saw to it that she received medical attention. And when she couldn't be saved, he ordered that she be mercifully killed. Was this an act of dishonor? He was extremely angry with the Hunter who did not see to her safety during the landing. If he was completely without honor, would he have even cared? I heard his anger. I may not have understood the words, but his anger was clearly evidenced.

"And when he…" Duncan stopped, trying to control her emotions. "And when he impregnated me, he was very careful not to injure me. He also became very angry with those who were not as careful with their women. Was this action dishonorable?

"I believe that the father of my children made errors in judgment and pursued the incorrect path. But I also believe that he did so out of reasons that seemed valid and genuine to him. And while on this incorrect path, he did many things that demonstrated his valor and honor.

"Your Honors, I am only human. To me the universe is not black and white, but many shades of gray. On my planet, I am a police officer and it is my job to see that the law is kept and to arrest those who disobey it. I have witnessed the behavior and attitude of those without honor and those who although they are outside the law – still have some form of it. I testify that the Sire of my daughter, although a criminal, was not without honor. And so it logically follows that his daughter is also not without honor, and is worth taking a chance on. Funny thing – that is the name I gave her, Chance. I have worked all her life to give her the best chance that I could to live a good life. Please continue, please give her a chance."

Duncan sat down to an arm squeeze from Sally. "Good job," she whispered. Even Theron gave her a look from the corner of one eye as he finished speaking to the Council.

The group of Elders began again to confer. "Can we go?" asked Duncan, "This obviously isn't going anywhere in Chance's favor."

"Not so," said Theron. "Patience." The little group continued to wait, with Sally and Duncan trying to look attentive. The Elder's were muttering to each other and Theron was unable to hear well enough to translate. So they all sat, ignorant of the conversation of the High Council. After a long while, after Duncan's backside had grown stiff, the Leader rose to address them.

"We have considered all that is to be considered. Our judgment is that the hybrid female, known as Chance, is granted time to train and apply herself towards the upcoming Chiva. This Chiva will be delayed. Her trainers will meet with us in a moon's cycle to determine her progress, if she is Chiva worthy and how long to continue to allow this Chiva to be delayed for her to attend. This is our decision, let discussion of this matter cease."

Sally grabbed Duncan's hand and squeezed, "Congratulations! Your daughter is on her way!" Theron said nothing but looked concerned.

"Spill it, Theron," the Matriarch commanded, "What's bothering you?"

"Has Chance had any training yet?" he asked Duncan.

"Well, I taught her to defend herself. She's pretty good in a knife fight! And she can chuck a spear as well as any of the boys could."

"Don't you think she can make it?" Sally anxiously asked the Hunter.

"I am concerned about the little amount of time allowed for her training. It is hardly a fair trial! It would have been better to have put her in the newer class and not held this Chiva up for her. I…I suspect that viewing her breeding potential is the reason for the rush."

"Well, then," Sally asserted, "She must be trained by only the best. That means you, Theron. I don't care if I miss some of the fruit you get for me from Earth – Chance must be trained!"

"Of course, Matriarch. It will be accomplished." He nodded smartly and then went off to locate Aldúlfr. He also needed to get word to Melanie that his next trip or two to Earth would be delayed. He hoped she would understand.

* * *

Arriving early at the High Council's private kehrite, the former Dor'an Warrior paused to take in this hallowed space. Here since long before his birth, the legends of the Clans had battled each other for the ultimate prize of a seat on the High Council. The viewing benches were few as this place was not for public spectacle. It was a solemn ring where the victor was awarded the ultimate responsibility for his Clan and the loser was handed over to Cetanu. There could be no question among the masses over who was chosen. This was understood by all who vied for leadership. If the victor had not killed his opponent outright, the bested Hunter would claim his own Honor by falling on his blade. Every member of the High Council knew that his claim to lead could be tested, and perhaps bested, at any time. Therefore, all High Council Elders kept in the finest shape and constantly honed their skills. This private arena was home to their efforts as well as their challenges. It was in this sacred space that it had been decreed he would instruct the hybrid and train her in an impossibly short amount of time up to Chiva standards. She could not fail, for to fail would have reflected poorly on his abilities as a Trainer. So he arrived early and went to the center to begin to flex and warm his body.

Chance arrived at the arena a little prematurely for the appointed time. Not wanting to appear as an over-eager green pup, she waited behind the columns in the shadows for her com to signal the meeting time. As she waited, she watched the lone Hunter go through the forms and postures to warm up. She recognized few of them, having only learned some basic stretching from her mother. She had watched the Matriarch a few times in the arena and these motions seemed to have a commonality with what Sally had done. But the resemblance ended there. This Hunter did not simply move gracefully through poises – he nearly danced from one point in space to another as his body seemingly moved without effort. His body was fluidity. Chance found herself moving out onto the arena to get a closer look at the astounding movements. He suddenly turned his head to her and beckoned with one hand, "You are here ahead of time. Good!" he pronounced as he unwound himself from his own body.

"How?" she started, but remembered she was only a student who had just learned proper manners. She looked at the floor in submission and then stated plainly, "I am the unBlooded student, Chance. May I ask you a question?"

"Sei," he replied, keeping up a stiff formality even as he examined her.

"How? How are you able to move like that?" Her voice rang with wonder.

Theron took in her fit body, tight with smooth muscle. She walked in a very balanced fashion which was good – her head up as her vision took in all the room, not just him. _Very good! She has some awareness of her surroundings._ He heard her discretely huff his essence even as he took in hers. She was tense, alert, but not frightened of him. She was also feeling something. The word _burdened _came to his mind. _What student does not feel the load of others expectations of her? _

"I am able to move as you witnessed due to a lifetime of preparation and training, as well as the inherent abilities given to me by my Bearer and Sire." She kept her head down and tried to think of something else to say.

"I hope that in my lifetime I may accomplish even half of your ability," she spoke humbly.

"A good goal! I am Honorable Theron, your Trainer. Let us see what you already know."

He gave her a small shoulder push to which she responded with a glare that distanced her new manners, "What? Why did you push me?"

"I am testing your balance. And I am challenging you," he tried not to grin. She had little in the way of civilized manners, but was willing to stand up for herself.

"To a fight?"

"Yes!" He pushed at her again. This time she reached up to his greater height and pushed back. It was a sound push, he noted. "And you have now accepted! As you are new to our ways, I will explain the rules." Pleased with his even generosity to his student, the Hunter relaxed slightly and was immediately met with a punch to his face. Chance sprang away from him as though he were on fire and raised her hands. She danced around him, "Okay, tough guy. Let's see what you've got!"

The surprised Hunter raised his crest in anger. This upstart had gotten the best of him with the first blow! Why had he not seen that coming? He began to circle her, evaluating her form. She had an astounding natural sense of center, he decided, even though a bit clumsy and definitely overconfident. He reached out with a tap and sent her slightly off-balance. _She is much denser in muscle than she appears! _He admired her ability to regain herself and kept circling, this time delivering a harder tap that send her clumsily off to her side. She did not fall, but was ungainly in regaining her feet. In a real fight, he could have used that opportunity to finish her, but he was evaluating her – not trying to win.

Getting up with a human-like yell, she packed her entire body behind the next blow and sent it towards the outside of his knee. He easily stepped aside to let her fly through the air and crash-land this time. Then stood waiting for her to get up. _At least she has some training in the vulnerable places to hit, _he thought as she got back on her feet, _even if she cannot hit them_. Her pissedness was palpable now as a bitter taste crawled through the air, searching out his potential weakness. He thought she might lose to her anger, but she stuffed it back inside and shook her head to clear it. "Every opponent has a weakness," she could hear her mother's voice. Find it. Exploit it. She joined Theron and moved to orbit him, waiting and watching.

As she assessed him, she moved a single hand to unlatch the fastening on her top. The Hunter saw her move and assumed she was positioning for some new hit. His jaw-dropping surprise was observable as the silken top cloth fell open and then off, leaving the female bare-breasted, her perfect orbs held in high perfection. As though she were cloaked, she moved on him even as his circling was stopped by shear astonishment at her unveiling. Too late, his arm went up to protect himself and only glanced at her legs as two powerful feet crashed into his solar plexus and rode him to the floor. Unable to breathe, he lay in powerless pain as she got up.

"Pussy," she spat, with the disgust clear on her face. "Graceful? Yes. Pussy? Yes." With no move to assist him up, she strode from the arena and headed for home.

Slowly thumping his foot on the floor to show approval, the High Elder Healer Myn'dill approached the downed Hunter. Theron was still on the floor, heaving for air. The Healer offered a hand up which was accepted. Under Myn'dill's watchful eye, the gray Trainer's diaphragm finally relaxed from spasm and he was able to breath normally again.

"She is not without skills," the gray one finally spoke, too chagrined to look the Healer in the eye.

"Indeed," Myn'dill replied, his solemn face worthy of any Earth-side poker tournament. "I am certain she will benefit from your training."

He shook Theron's shoulder in a comradely fashion and then walked off at a normal pace towards the exit. It was only after he had completed the walk to his clinic and shut himself in a treatment room that he let his full volley of laughter shoot out like a cannon. He would not tell anyone of course, about how the hybrid student had laid Theron out like a youngling. But he knew that the Hunter knew - he had one on him. It might never be used, but like valuable currency Myn'dill pocketed it where it could be retrieved for future need.


	3. Chapter Two: New Understandings

**Chapter Two: New Understandings**

_**Remember to always be yourself. Unless you suck. -**__**Joss Whedon**__**  
**_

It had been a difficult first lesson, in spite of winning. Chance ran to her families assigned apartement after that lesson, replacing the cloth for her top that she had scooped from the arena floor. Too worried to speak of it, she responded with a "Fine," when asked by her mother how the training session had gone.

"Did you learn anything?" Duncan had queried, curious about the lesson.

Chance considered for a moment before replying, "Only that boys will be boys." She gave her mother a lovely smile. "I'm gonna hit the shower, k?"

"K, but don't dawdle. We're invited to the Matriarch's table as her dinner guests this evening. Sally's servants stopped by and left all of us some clothing. Yours is in your room."

_Crap, _thought Chance while again giving her mother a smile although inside she was churning. _I just want to stay in my room and read about this place – if I can remember how to work their damn machine! What will they do to me for tricking the instructor? I won for sure, and any weakness that can be used is…hell, a weakness! I don't even understand exactly what this damned Chiva is. I need to know what I'm up against with this so-called 'training'. Whatever it is, I HAVE to succeed – for mom, the others and myself. Shit, he was strong! Stronger than any male I've ever fought. I wonder how long it took him to breathe again. _She snickered while she let the shower beat cleanliness into her back. _Teach him to mess with me! _She lathered up and even took the time to wash between her locks. _This isn't dawdling. I need to be squeaky clean for the Matriarch. He was such an odd color – kind of a nice change from the usual – sort of like my 'hair'._

Matriarch Sally rose from her place and easily walked down the steps from her dining perch to greet her guests. Duncan, her friends and their more-or-less grown daughters looked abysmally out of place as they entered the hall. At least they were cleaner, she noticed, and properly dressed now – although the ones with actual hair could use a stylist. She smiled and extended her hand in human fashion to the former police officer, who shook it firmly but without a smile.

"Welcome to our feast," Sally greeted her. "It is my hope to bridge new understanding between the people of Earth and the Hunters and Bearers of Yaut." She showed the group to their places at the table and seated Duncan as the guest of Honor right beside her. The Matriarch's other side was taken up by the considerable form of Aldúlfr, her Consort, who presently stood, as did all the other Yautja, behind a dining chair waiting for the guests to be seated. "I believe you've met nearly everyone here," Sally continued, but I know it takes time to learn faces and names. If you want to know who anyone is, please just ask me." She beamed at her guests again and then at all her daughters, who were seated much farther down the immense formal trestle. After retaking her seat, she signaled for the Aseigan to bring in the meal.

Chance's mouth began to water as the scent of meat reached her mouth. Living with her human mother, she had learned to eat cooked flesh and had always regarded the Hunters warily as they tore at rare joints and carcasses. The scent of lean rawness now again assailed her and for once she glanced greedily at the portions being served to the Yautja. Sally noticed the direction of her eyes, and leaned over Duncan to address the girl. "Do you prefer your meat raw?" she asked kindly.

"Uh, no. Of course not," Chance replied, and then looked at her mother with eyes that asked, 'Please?'

Duncan kept her hands in her lap, even though her impulse was to place a comforting touch on the back of Chance's hand. She was keenly aware that she must not make her offspring appear weak in any way. After clearing her throat, she said quietly, "Baby, if you'd like to try it raw, go right ahead. It might even be good for you."

Sally called to a servant who immediately came bearing a platter of uncooked meat slices. He served one to Chance on another clean plate after taking away the unappetizingly scorched serving. A clicking from the far end of the table summoned the red-head's attention as she reverently huffed the new serving. Searching for the source, she discovered the covey of young females at the other end of the table all staring intently at her. Was this some kind of test? She picked up the provided fork and knife and began to delicately cut a portion in the manner in which she had been taught. The clicking increased, along with outright chittering and began to sound suspiciously mocking. Again, Chance glanced down the table but this time she watched as the tallest of the females seized her portion of flesh with nothing but taloned hands and began stuffing it into her mouth. Awareness dawned on Chance that on this planet, THIS was the proper way to eat.

Succumbing to peer pressure and grateful for guidance, she firmly took hold of her slippery portion, using her claws to assist and then brought it to her human-looking mouth. Large bites of meat, neatly carved with her pointed incisors, disappeared into her hungry maw. It was beyond delicious! She sat with eyes closed, savoring the perfect sweetness and tender goodness of untampered-with flesh. Then without thinking, she began cleaning her fingers with her tongue. Upon opening her eyes, she saw the tall female quickly do the same and nod to her. Chance smiled across the room at her new ally, and then shot a glance at her mother who was busy with her own meal and talking with Sally. The newfound friend was saying something to a servant, who hustled over and placed another serving of rawness upon Chance's plate. After a nod of gratitude to the tall one, she dived in.

Eventually, her belly filled and she could eat no more. Instead she sat looking satisfied and tried to listen in on the conversations around the room. Not able to understand any of the Yautja, she concentrated on what her mother and the Matriarch were saying.

"I'd like to present my daughters to you and your friends," Sally was saying, "They are in the end stages of training and will go to Chiva soon! We are all very excited for them!" A dim grumble from the far end of the table was abruptly silenced with a glance from Sally who then called, "Girls! I should say, young Huntresses, come here and introduce yourselves to our guests.

"They all speak very good English, you know. I raised them all, with the help of a friend who has returned to Earth. Her daughter is among them, but I consider her one of my own. With the exception of Signý, all the girls are biologically mine, but from several different fathers."

Duncan blanched, wondering how in hell the Matriarch could have given birth to all these large females who seemed about the same age, but Sally was too busy encouraging her girls to hurry to pay any attention. She was obviously very proud of them, Duncan realized. She had met a couple of them during the rescue, but couldn't differentiate between them now that they were all in front of her.

One by one, the young females came up and gave a slight bow, and Sally told the guests their name. Sally would speak to each one in turn and ask a question to allow the girl to share some information about herself. The tall one that had rescued Chance from social impropriety was next. "This is my lovely Arndís, whom you met before when we found you. She is tall and graceful as you can see. Arndís, tell our guests about your hobbies, please."

Arndís seemed quite at home being introduced and moved into her answer with ease, "I enjoy studying about our history. About the great Hunters and Huntresses of old who bequeathed us with the wisdom of their decisions and handed down our great society to this day. We are proud to be Yautja and proud of our contribution to our heritage. We welcome you, honored guests." She looked at the rag-tag band, still seamy in spite of bathing and elegant attire. The fire-locked one caught her gaze and returned it with a secretive wink. Arndís gave a smile, and hoped that the female realized what top-gaped mandibles meant.

Then a hulking and somewhat sullen female was introduced next to the guests. "This is my wonderful Ulfrde, who takes after her noble father in so many ways! She was also in your rescue party. Ulfrde, please tell our guests about your specialties."

The female seemed to come to life as her burley voice explained, "I am a Huntress and will eventually be a Bearer. I specialize in tracking down and killing my prey," her eyes burrowed into Chance. "Sometimes, if the prey is worthy, I take trophies." No polite bow accompanied her speech, and the Matriarch frowned at her.

"Manners?" Sally questioned. The Huntress gave the suggestion of a nod, never taking her eyes off Chance, who felt the fine scales on the back of her neck begin to rise. _This girl gives me the creeps! I feel like I need to run and hide from her!_ "Very well, Ulfrde," Sally dismissed her and called upon the next youngster. Ulfrde responded with a pronounced huff in Chance's direction which earned her another glare from Sally.

Chance went back to her seat and wondered why Ulfrde seemed to broadcast hate in her direction. "Never mind her," a deep voice intoned, "she's just unhappy and determined to share it with the rest of us." She turned to find Arndís standing behind her. "I'd like to show you around tomorrow, if that would be acceptable."

"Thank you. I'd love to! I'll have to check first as I may have more training tomorrow. I don't really know what my schedule is."

"Did you train today?"

"Yes, and yesterday also."

"Then you will have eight more days of training before you get a day off. That is the training rotation – nine cycles of training, one cycle of rest. You'll get used to it. Who's your Trainer?"

"Some wise-ass named Theron."

Arndís made a half-mandible challenge, which was lost on the new girl, "**Honorable **Theron is one of the very best. You should count yourself fortunate to have him as your Trainer."

"The best, huh? Really? He's your best?" Chance's overconfidence smeared her new friend with distaste.

"Sei. He is. You would do well to learn from him."

"Well…I taught him something today! He won't mess with me again!" Chance stated proudly.

"May I ask what you did?" Curiosity was nearly killing Arndís as she questioned. Had this odd new student really been able to teach Theron something he didn't know?

"I put him on his sorry ass today!" Chance smirked.

"You didn't! You couldn't! I mean…how could you do that?"

"Are you callin' me a liar?" Chance bristled and raised her crown at Arndís. From across the room, Ulfrde rose from her seat and stomped over to assess the growing situation.

"No. I'm just…surprised. How did you do that to him?" She was soon joined by the stocky figure of her sister who asked, "Anything wrong here?"

"No, Ulfrde. Chance was just telling me about her training today."

"Oh," mocked Ulfrde, "you were able to train AND attend a formal dinner in a single day?"

Arndís interrupted, "Chance says that she bested our Trainer, the Honorable Theron today." Ulfrde's eyes narrowed as her trap clapped shut. Turning on Chance, she growled, "And exactly HOW did you do that?"

"I surprised him with a move and knocked him on his ass! Now, if you two will excuse me, I'd like to meet some others in this room. I'll see you on my next day off then, Arndís." She pulled herself up as tall as possible and left her chair in the direction of Aldúlfr.

Arndís turned to her sister, "That was unexpected! Knocked Theron on his ass – my ass!" rumbled Ulfrde. "Let me be alone with her for just a moment in the kehrite and I will see who is knocked on their ass! She is an…an…an abomination to our race! That's what she is! An abominable hybrid!"

Although she was puzzled by the red-locked female's lack of manners and by her boast of besting Theron, Arndís did not let anger rule her thought processes. "Do you hear yourself?" she posited to Ulfrde. "WE are hybrids too!"

"Our growth was carefully supervised and tended by the best Healers. She…she had nothing but…nature!"

"So," Ardis countered fearlessly, "She had the will of Paya then. Who are you to question Paya?"

Ulfrde merely gave a growl and stomped back to her seat. Arndís followed, wondering how to best deal with Chance. The striking female had much to learn, she realized, and suddenly felt badly for the Chiva team that might include her and grateful that their team of three was secure. She looked over at Signý who was in animated conversation with another sister. Signý was an excellent Huntress to complete their team, and Arndís felt it proper that the three daughters of two brothers should go through their trial together.

Arndís resumed her meal but kept one eye on Chance as the girl dared to approach the esteemed Elite Elder Aldúlfr. Did she realize that he was an Arbitrator? She presented herself to him, or rather Sally did the introduction via her translator Theron, and Chance gave a deep and courteous bow of submission to the great Elder. _At least she knows enough to show him respect, _thought Arndís.

"Our ForeSire is not fool," said Ulfrde from beside her. She had also been watching Chance. "He will scent her over-confidence and observe her deficit of manners."

The sisters saw the honored Hunter's eyes gleam as he spoke to the newcomer. She spoke, it was translated by Theron and then the great Hunter huffed in her scent before he spoke again. Aghast, they saw her reach for an honor ring on one great white lock and hold it in her hand as she spoke again. The Elite one puffed up just a bit and went on – probably relating some epic about how he gained that particular ring. Chance smiled warmly at him and then walked away. He stood watching her for a moment, his face expressionless. Then he reached for his glass of c'ntlip and said something to Theron, who then spoke to Sally. The sisters nearly strained their ears trying to hear something, but were unable to make anything out.

"Our ForeSire is far too intelligent to be taken in by a female as dishonorable, as shallow, as…c'jit, I have no words, Arndís! I am taken aback by what we have witnessed."

"Do not put too much interpretation on what you have seen, Ulfrde. We could not hear what was said, nor could we scent them. I agree that Honorable Aldúlfr would not be easily swayed. But perhaps he is merely considering her as a future mating prospect?"

"How distasteful to have any of those red locks in our line!" Ulfrde responded, pretending to choke on a bit of meat. She realized that her gagging act must have been louder than she intended as she was under close scrutiny by several of the older Hunters at the table, including her ForeSire, now claimed Sire, Aldúlfr. He gave her a wink followed by a mandible wave, and then pretended to huff again in the arrogant hybrid's direction. Ulfrde barely swallowed her flesh chunk in time to not truly have it stick in her throat as she stuffed down a chortle. She elbowed her sister and nodded towards the Elite Elder Arbitrator, but he feigned innocence as his other offspring stared at him.

"What?" Arndís whispered to Ulfrde. "Why did you elbow me?"

"Tell you later," she whispered back. "We don't have to worry about that piece of Hunter bait contaminating our Bloodline." She smiled in a knowing way and returned to her meal, leaving a confused Arndís who shrugged and reached for her cup. Ulfrde was rather a bigot at times, she decided even as she hoped that Chance was merely in need of manners and not sense.

Signý wriggled uncomfortably in her dining chair as though she were only a few long cycles old while she wondered if this dreadful dinner would ever be over. She was going to leave to travel to Earth the next cycle to visit her Bearer, and Theron was taking her. He'd been appointed to periodically visit the planet in order to keep the Matriarch stocked with Blue Planet fruit. That HAD been the plan, until the Matriarch had charged Theron with Chance's training. Now she didn't know when she'd get back to see her mother. Of course, the young Huntress realized that this was also an opportunity for him to seek out her mother and keep in touch with her and that he was bound to be disappointed also.

She remembered that she had felt abandoned by Melanie initially after she returned to Earth, but was soon caught up in the intense training program and competition with her sisters. Her Sire, Sig'dan, was still here and often offered encouragement and counsel. He also sparred with her to give her even more practice, for which she felt honored and grateful. She would have been sparring with Theron during the now cancelled trip in order not to fall behind in training. The images of the gray Hunter, bared to the cloth and circling her in the ring, were presently occupying her thoughts rather than meeting the Matriarch's guests. She pushed pieces of meat around her plate, contemplating the feel of his body against her own and wondered how she could seduce him. _It is completely unfair that the High Council has already selected a mate for me! I don't care if our genetics are highly complementary – I want Theron!_

As wine soothed her nerves, Sally leaned playfully against her Consort as she spoke with Duncan, who seemed uncomfortable at Sally's level of ease with the Hunters. "I appreciate what you have done for humanity," Duncan continued. "There is hope now that eventually these aliens will leave us alone and seek only their own kind to mate with."

"It will take some time to regain the female population," Sally instructed, "but I try to keep my eye on the goal and not get bogged down by the fact that women are still taken from Earth. At least, in the cases where it is done by Honorable Hunters and not BadBloods such as you experienced, the women have the option to stay on Earth during the pregnancy. Before, they were all taken to Clan ships or came here to Yaut."

"I think I have come to a decision for myself," Duncan said suddenly as her own answer appeared to her, "I will stay here on Yaut until Chance has been accepted into your society, then I will take my leave and return to Earth."

Sally set up from her Hunter cushion, not expecting this decision in the middle of dinner. "That's fine, Duncan. Do the others in your party feel this way?"

"I don't know. I haven't told them what I'm going to do yet." The elderly woman twisted around in her seat and called the rest of her party to attention as the entire room fell silent. Her friends and all the children listened as she conveyed her decision to them. No one answered her for many minutes as the Yautja and their Matriarch also sat silently. Then, one of the women said, "Your Chance is the closest of all our children in looks to these Hunters. We can understand that you want the best life for her and that it is probably here. But Duncan…we want to go home, and take our kids with us! As much as we love you we need to go home. If you like, I'll take your other kids with us and we'll take care of them until you get to Earth."

Duncan's face hardened. She had not expected her friends and lover to desert her. Yet, she also knew of the trials the group had endured and their excitement at being able to go home. She also realized that for them to take her younger and more human-appearing children would be best for them. They had all shared in mothering the kids, so it would not be that difficult for her other two to leave with the group. It would only be difficult for herself to miss the others so. Was giving Chance the opportunity to have a life here worth that? Duncan scanned the dining table, looking at all the bizarre faces and then rested on the human-lipped face of her daughter. The thought of leaving Chance here without the support of her family made her heart nearly spasm in pain. Yet the path lay clearly before her. To the little group that had come to be her family, she said, "I understand. Go home and take my two youngest with you. I know that you will raise them right. I'll stay here with Chance until I'm certain that this is the best place for her and then, I'll come home." She then addressed her eldest daughter, "Chance, I hope you can understand my leaving you after we both decide that…Yaut is best." Duncan then turned to Sally, "Can you please arrange for the rest of my family to go home as soon as possible? I think they are all very ready to go home."

"Certainly," answered the Matriarch. "And Chance's grooming for the Chiva will continue. I am honored to be in the presence of the pure love and wisdom of such a Mother." She raised her cup to Duncan. Theron translated for everyone at the table and all joined Sally in her toast.

The Matriarch continued, "Females and motherhood are revered in this culture, Duncan. This can be the very best of places for your daughter to find a life for herself. I would be honored to assist you in every way possible."

"Thank you," Duncan replied quietly. "I think it's time to call it an evening. Chance needs to rest for more training tomorrow."

"Of course." Sally and her Yautja all stood as Duncan's family left the table and went to their rooms. The Matriarch then dismissed her own daughters and motioned for the remaining Hunters to gather near her at the table. "So what do you all think? Can this female be trained? Can she pass Chiva? Theron, you worked with her this cycle, what do you think?"

"It is still very premature to judge her, Honorable Matriarch," he nodded. "She does have…qualities of being able to do the…unexpected." He put his sentence together very carefully. Some might have thought that he was only being careful not to mislead anyone with a premature judgment. Only the Healer Myn'dill knew the truth behind Theron's careful words and struggled to keep his tusks aligned straight.

Suddenly he found the Matriarch's eyes demanding his opinion and he uncharacteristically wandered about his brain searching for words. Sally frowned and looked quizzically at him. Suddenly he was able to form a sentence, "She is…fit," he began, as the air around him filled with clicking chortles.

"Just what is the problem here?" the Matriarch's words were clipped and short. Since she was, to the Yautja, virtually blind to odors she was in the dark as to why two respected Hunters were having difficulty explaining their opinions about Chance to her. Sig'dan stepped in to rescue the situation.

"Sal-lee. Honorable Matriarch," he corrected himself for they were in public, "the young female is overt in her seduction abilities. Her scent is…profound, even when not in season."

The Matriarch looked surprised and then her forehead crinkled and her lips pursed in that way that told everyone she was busy thinking. The Hunters all waited respectfully. Finally she spoke. "So, my Honorable Hunters have been reduced to pups who've not tasted their first rut by one seductive female?" The group around her raised their brows in surprise as her words were spoken to them by Theron. "Has she reduced all of you to unthinking sets of genitalia!" she snapped at them. "This is important. This female may be able to contribute her genetics to our program, but in order to do so we have to ensure that she is the best. Are you still capable of training her? Of honestly judging her? I am counting on your ability to control yourselves as mature Hunters who seek only the best for our Clans." Theron's expression requested permission to speak. Sally nodded at him.

"Honorable Matriarch, what Honorable Sig'dan has said is true; however, there is more to my careful choice of words. I am not a rut-struck Hunter – no matter how tempting she is. I am, instead, a most embarrassed Trainer who earlier this cycle was bested by this student." He kept his head low, looking at the floor after he finished speaking as clicks of surprise from the other Hunters started and were quickly cut short. Myn'dill mentally tore up his chit of secret knowledge.

Sally appreciated that her translator was honest and loyal enough to make sure that she understood the whole story instead of saving face by letting her believe that he was only reacting to Chance's overt sexuality. She wracked her brain as to how best to respond, not wanting to add to Theron's humiliation. "Honorable Theron, you are one of the best Trainers and fighters that I know. She must have resorted to something very unusual in order to best you."

The Hunter continued his study of the floor, "Yes, Honorable Matriarch. She unexpectedly partially disrobed as we were circling. It was…unanticipated and she rightly took the advantage of my momentary…distraction."

Sally was amused but tried to hide it, not wanting to insult Theron. "I am sure that such a move will not be unexpected again."

"It will not, Honorable Matriarch."

"So, I now understand your assessment of her. And you, Myn'dill?" Sally turned her face expectantly to the Healer.

Myn'dill looked very professional and serious, "Physically, she is as strong and capable as any of your daughters. She should be able to catch up with the others, physically. It is her maturity I question."

Sally nodded, "That makes sense, Honorable Healer. And what is your opinion, my Consort?"

Aldúlfr nodded in agreement, "Her lack of maturity also concerns me. I believe she was rude to our daughters, although Ulfrde is no paragon of manners!" Humorous clicking greeted his observation. When it died down, he went on, "She was very confident, yet behaved in a deliberate, seductive manner when she approached me during the meal. On the surface, she was like a poised female who has experienced many seasons. Yet, when evaluated closely, she scented of great insecurity. I suspect that she has learned to behave overconfidently and use her sexuality to survive in the unfortunate circumstances she lived in under the jungle temple. We must find a way to allow her to find true reasons for confidence and that her sexuality is not to be used, but to be enjoyed."

Sally's heart swelled with pride at the wisdom of her Consort, and he did not neglect to note it. "Your wisdom is always beneficial," she beamed at him. "Let us all retire for the evening and continue to think on this. We will meet again in three cycles. There will have been time to think and time to make more observations of her behavior." Sally did not mention that she also trusted their sexual self-control. To have even mentioned it would imply a lack of trust, and she had already come close to insulting them with her earlier line of questioning. She was the Matriarch, but she wasn't stupid enough to believe that meant she could be rude without any repercussions. To accuse any Hunter of the inability to control himself, especially a Hunter of any seniority or stature, was a most serious allegation.

_You walked right up to the edge there, old girl. You losing your savvy about how to behave or is the title Matriarch beginning to go to your head? _Sally gave herself a stern mental lecture all the way back to her quarters. Aldúlfr escorted her and made no mention of her unusual silence during the walk to her bedroom. At the doorway she made to enter but was stopped by a gargantuan hand upon her shoulder. "Sal'lee, okay?" he asked her, looking down and turning his head to an angle. She reached up and fondly smoothed a hand across his chest.

"I'm okay. Just have a lot to think about and I'm tired." She smiled at him and he responded by enclosing her within his arms as he sunk down on both knees and clasped her close. "Sleep well, Sal-lee," he rumbled comfortingly. "Sal-lee gud Matreeark. Aldúlfr proud!"

"Thank you," she murmured back, pressing the side of her face against the living wall that was his chest. "I depend on your strength, your honor and your wisdom." She listened to his heart for a few minutes. This was their connection now, their reminder of the bond between them. When Aldúlfr had learned that his sexuality was damaging to Sally, he felt very ashamed and charged Myn'dill to tell no one. In public, they both still kept up the show of sharing a bed on occasion. But in reality, he had vowed to never touch her that way again.

Eventually, he had consulted with Myn'dill as his newfound ability to carry out the sexual act had consumed even his iron will with insatiable lust. "Do not be concerned," the Healer had replied. "This very evening, I will send your solution to your quarters. Be prepared." Myn'dill would not answer any further questions for the Consort who angrily stormed off to his rooms. Some time later after a session with his right hand and a long soak, he heard his com.

"Who bothers me at this hour?" he grumbled into the communications device.

"I have been sent by your Healer," a muffled rumble came back to him. "May I enter?"

Confusion came over Aldúlfr's face as he switched the viewer on. He saw a masked Hunter there, dressed in a full length white robe. Had Myn'dill sent someone to spar with him? Not a very original way to take his mind off his troubles. And why the robe? Aldfulfr opened the door, expecting a shoulder shove or invitation to the kehrite. Instead, the figure stalked through the doorway with a walk that dripped of sensuality. _SEX_? _What the Hel is this, Myn'dill? _

He reached forward and caught the fluttering robe, ripping it from the sultry figure that stood, now motionless, before him. As the robe sundered, the Yautja lifted hands to the mask and pulled it away. Amber eyes flashed at him beneath the finely sculpted crown and graceful side-jaws flared their challenge as demure tusks shone from each waving branch. Involuntarily, Aldúlfr huffed and his mind was instantly filled with the heady perfume that registered as Yautja female in his lower brain. The response there was instantaneous. There was not even time to think as the beautifully fine hand made a shove in the middle of his rapidly pounding heart.

In a single move, the beauty's arms were locked in the mating hold and the Elder had shed his cloth and was rooting about for entrance. Quickly finding it, he mindlessly shoved inside and began slamming himself into the divinity of bliss. Shoving deeply, he drove his seed home with a sudden expulsion and a roar that nearly made the room ring, then implanted his tusks deeply in the heaving back. Panting, he laid over her, tasting the blood on his tusks, still keeping himself safe by holding her in his iron grasp. As he caught his breath, he huffed in her scent again. _So beautiful! So good to pauk her as hard as I can, to not have to hold back or worry about injuring her…HER? HER? YAUTJA FEMALE?_

Adulfr pulled himself out and stood, looking at the place he had just vacated. There, just between the two openings was the telltale scar. That thin line of a seam that told the tale of the male seed creators that had been surgically removed and the artificial female opening created. He released the 'female' and whirled her around. There, on her forehead above her beautiful eyes was the Clan mark of a Dor'an warrior. The Elder gave a howl of disgust and sent the woman backwards onto the floor. "Myn'dill, you tricked me!" His crown was a peacock of rage, even as the feminine scent triggered a hardening of his flesh once more.

The female gracefully got up and faced the lustful mourner. "Do I not scent as a female should scent? Do I not appear and feel to you as a female? Do I not challenge and then satiate you as a female?"

"But you are NOT a female!" Aldúlfr roared back. "You are a surgically altered Dor'an! Created by the Clan that is afraid to mate with ooman females in order to keep their pauk-de sanity, let alone their Bloodlines continued! You are an abomination!"

The brave female walked boldly to him and growled in his face, "If you test my genes, you will find that I am indeed one-hundred percent female!"

"I saw the scars where your seed-bears were cut off! Do you think I have c'jit for brains?" Aldúlfr roared back.

"I am an Honorable Dor'an," she yelled back, "and I speak purely! Test me if you are brave enough!"

Aldúlfr jammed his wrist com so hard he nearly broke it, "Myn'dill!" he roared when the connection was answered, "Get to my quarters with a gene kit! Immediately!" He shut the com without bothering to hear an answer and stood glaring at his recently mated female until the door com signaled again. Without bothering to answer, he strode to the door and opened it. "Get in here!" he barked to the Healer.

"Test him! He claims that he is female."

Without a word, Myn'dill ran the detailed scanner over the hand of the one whose sexual identity was in question. The scanner buzzed. "She is a female!" he answered, the surprise evident on his face.

"What? I saw scars where his seed makers used to be! What treachery is this?" Aldúlfr's voice was back in a roar again. Myn'dill shrugged, indicating his level of knowledge. The Elder began to reach for the Healer's neck.

"If you will calm yourself, I will tell you what our Healers think," the female interrupted the about-to-begin thrashing, thus saving Myn'dill's life.

"Sei! Let us hear what your Healer's think," Myn'dill agreed, bouncing away from the powerful hands as Aldúlfr grumbled, "No! He will only tell more lies!"

"He. SHE is an honorable Dor'an, my Elder," Myn'dill said hurriedly. "Surely we must hear her words before we judge?"

That stopped the Elder Arbitrator, whose face was in the middle of becoming the set mask of unfeeling judgment. That expression sent a chill down the Healer's spine. He knew he was very close to death. "Honorable Consort, let us keep our Honor intact before we decide if the law has been violated." Grumbling, Aldúlfr ceased reaching for Myn'dill and turned on the female. "Tell us. And be pure about it. I will scent any deceit!"

The Dor'an, realizing now who her suitor must be, felt a little shaky. But she bravely began, "In order to preserve our Clan, the Healers began cloning experiments. We took cells from our finest warriors and grew them to fullness in artificial wombs. All of the pups born this way were healthy males of course. They could not risk trying to create females. Our Healers theorize that nature, out of desperation for Yautja females, has made it so that some of our males are undergoing insufficient male hormone exposure in the womb. They have actually created their own blocks against becoming fully male. They still appear male, perhaps in an effort to protect against the disease of the females? We do not know. But we have fully functioning females being born in our labs that only appear male on the outside. In order for them to mature as females, they must be allowed to continue growth as a male. It is only after Chiva that we can be surgically altered to appear as the true females we are. The only problem is that, so far, we have been unable to bear pups. But our Healers are working on the problem. So, I AM a female!"

Aldúlfr turned to Myn'dill, "Is this possible?"

"Sei, it is not only possible but probable. My scans prove the truth that this Yautja is female. As disagreeable as the possibility that this Yautja was a male is to you, may I respectfully remind you that there is no law in our Clan against it."

The Elite Elder Arbitrator had calmed a bit by now, but was still having difficulty accepting the truth. "So you are a female?" he again asked the visitor.

"Yes, as I have stated. I am one-hundred percent female. And also delighted to rut with such a strong and honorable Hunter as you. Even if I cannot bear you a pup."

"And your scan reveals the purity of this?" he asked Myn'dill again.

"Sei, Honorable Aldúlfr, it does." The Healer mentally thanked Paya that this was so, realizing his life might have been forfeit otherwise.

"Then get the pauk out," the immense Elder snarled at the Healer. Myn'dill immediately left as the doorway secured behind him. _I hope he is rubbed raw by the morning and I hope she gives him a meaningful kick before they are through, _he wished. The Elder had never treated him this way before, but then, he had never set up the Elder with a Dor'an mating substitute before. He reviewed how upset the Elder had been at the idea he had just mated a male. _There's no accounting for self-induced pickiness, _he decided. _If I'd had the chance, I'd have been on her back even before I got my cloth off!_


	4. Chapter Three: A Shared Secret

**Chapter Three: A Shared Secret **

"_Pursuit and seduction are the essence of sexuality. It's part of the sizzle." _

– _Camille_ _Paglia_

The exceedingly fit Huntress studied her legs in the mirror, critically examining the muscles that framed the sides of the leather loincloth that stretched slightly to hug her pleasantly curved hips. She took in every detail and then stopped to admire the edge of the tanned animal hide which accentuated her gender in a low curving line beneath the iron of her belly muscles and then draped seductively over the hill of her powerful buttocks.

Today was only a trip through the city to show the new female around and give her a taste of culture, and maybe some fun without the adults around. Arndís flicked an imaginary bit off the golden brown leather that was skillfully draped over her bosom as she continued her self-evaluation. _It's too plain. Something to draw the eye to my curves here…I know! _She opened one of the carved boxes on top of her garment table and took out a small cylinder. Carefully, she lifted the lid and slid the rattling treasure out into her palm. This was a gift from her ForeSire given two long cycles ago after his return from a Hunt. And not just any Hunt – he'd set out with a team of his Arbitrators after a notorious BadBlood known as Gahn'tha-cte, or Ruthless as she'd explained her to Bearer. The notorious Gahn'tha-cte had not been seen in many, many long cycles. Then a deep frontier explorer drone had reported a positive identification of his ship. So with the blessings of the Matriarch, the trio of Arbitrators had gone-off planet with Elite Elder Arbitrator Honorable Aldúlfr leading the mission.

As expected, but never with complete certainty, the team had returned victorious and celebrations were held recognizing the justice that had been served to such a godless, dishonorable Hunter. Arndís recalled studying about him in the historical record. He had been a promising youth and attained great trophies at his Chiva. But his first breeding season slapped him with the unkindness of free-will as the young female he had long sought selected another. It was also her first breeding season, and she had naturally selected an older, experienced male. Howling with rage and hormones, the youthful Hunter attacked the pair as they were mating. With strength magnified by rage he twisted the head off his opponent and proceeded to ravish the female. So driven was he by anger and lust that he dislocated both of her shoulders with the vigor of his thoughtless mating hold. Ignoring her screams of agony, he then proceeded to rape her. The dislocated shoulders would mend, but she was so traumatized by the event that she would never breed again. Over time, she fell into a great melancholia and eventually pierced her own heart with a blade. Gahn'tha-cte's lack of control over himself caused not only his own downfall, but ruined the life of another. Arndís had added the tale to the list of lessons which she would teach to her pups when it was time during their Bearer-led training.

After the cycles of celebration, Aldúlfr, who was still in high spirits, had taken young Arndís and Ulfrde to the city market and searched the vendors for just the right trinket for each of them. For Ulfrde, he had selected a leather cord strung with beads of carved golden metal. He passed the crafter a handful of something from his pouch and the beads were immediately restrung intermixed with immaculate rectangles of gleaming ivory hard-meat teeth - each with a neatly drilled hole near the root end.

"KAAAAh!" Ulfrde gasped when the beaded string was held in front of her eyes and then was nearly speechless with wonder when it was presented to her. "These are teeth from one of your Kande Amheda kills!" She was beside herself at the beauty and honor of the gift and bowed deeply to her ForeSire before enveloping him in an embrace.

"You have earned this, my Bloodline!" he softly growled, returning her hug and remembering how hard he had trained her. For an instant, his fondness for her nearly overwhelmed his emotions but he managed to stifle them as they were in public after all. Patting her head, he indulged himself in treating her as though she were still the little inquisitive pup. She was always his delight, and he struggled at times to treat her sister, Arndís, with as much affection. It was not that he did not think fondly of her also, but Ulfrde was special. She had the gift of focus, as did he and his now departed firstborne, Ulfr, who was her biological father. He was often reminded of Ulfr by her attitude, courage and strength. _It is with gratitude, Paya, that I see my son's best traits passed on to this little one. May she continue to grow in greatness. May she always bring honor to our Clan._

With Ulfrde properly decorated, the Elder now took Arndís through the vendor stalls searching for just the right accoutrement. He found a fine golden chain from which many red jewels hung. Each stone reflected the light from the multitude of facets that had been painstakingly cut into each one. Arndís was delighted and reached for it. "Not yet," he gently chided. "It must be made perfect." Again he reached into his pouch and removed something small that was enclosed within his palm. Handing it to the crafter, he and the females waited as the small and perfect skull was permanently clasped with a fixture on the cranium so that it could hang as the perfect centerpiece in the midst of the red stones.

"The eyes," Aldúlfr said, "Fix the eye sockets with red stones." Nodding, the crafter selected and set two perfect round faceted red stones in the eyes. Then he handed the masterpiece to Arndís, who promptly gave her deepest and most respectful nod first to the crafter and then to her ForeSire. "This is the most beautiful piece I have ever seen," she stated with emotion. "I am completely honored by this gift! I shall wear it proudly, and always remember who gifted it to me."

"A pretty speech," he said fondly, and then exclaimed, "Life holds great promise for you!" _She is ever the diplomat and politician, this one. Ulfrde is stronger, but Arndís is quite possibly smarter and definitely wiser in the ways of things. She will be one to command great respect for her wisdom, I think. It is with gratitude, Paya, that I see the potential within this pup. May she continue to grow in greatness. May she always bring honor to our Clan._

Smiling at the memory of her ForeSire's gift, the now grown and nearly adult Arndís gracefully placed the chain about her neck and let the jewels drip downward to where the red-eyed skull lay between her breasts. Against the leather, the fine work stood out and did indeed draw the eye to where the boney head rested. _That will do, _she thought. _Just in case we meet him today. Oh Paya, may we cross paths today, for surely he is the one who should be my first mate. I know that the High Council has already selected my rut mate for the best interest of our race – but please, I beg of you, let it be HIM._

Excitement shivered down her back at the thought of the one that drew her. Many long cycles her senior, he was the Hunter given the greatest regard by all. Taller that she was with white locks, nearly buried beneath honor rings, dividing over his wide shoulders. She pictured the narrowness of his waist where cloth met the chiseled muscles that formed his abdomen, even as she thought - _his bearing is such that even if his rank were concealed the ability to command and demand respect could simply be felt in the air surrounding his body._ _Would he find me honorable enough, beautiful enough, and desirable enough to meet my challenge? Would he bend my body to take his seed? _She held her arms back and leaned forward as though caught in his grasp even as her body automatically responded by dewing her private area as it begged for his touch. Nearly breathless with anticipation, she stood up and prepared to leave. Huffing the air to test her own scent, she quickly sprayed herself and the room with her favorite fragrance enhancer made from a blend of flowers. No sense in blatantly advertising her thoughts. Soon enough they would embark on Chiva, and she would become an adult and be allowed to mate with him! She imagined how she would find him and then firmly plant her shove on his chest as she looked deeply into his dark brown eyes. _Let it be him, Paya, or I shall die from want! _After spraying herself again, Arndís left her room just as an Aseigan was about to announce himself and request entrance in order to clean. Arndís acknowledged his presence and let him in whereupon he dutifully began tidying up while trying not to breathe. _There is so much flower essence in here that I shall pass out before I have completed my work,_ the servant grumbled in his mind. _I will be happy when mating season arrives and these females can relieve themselves. At least this one is courteous enough to attempt to disguise her scent!_

Arndís briskly walked the route to the Matriarch's guest quarters, hoping that the perfume of her earlier thoughts had been shed along the way. She arrived at the door and signaled her presence via the com which responded by opening as an eager Chance stood in the doorway. "Wow! You look fabulous!" was her response after scanning Arndís up and down. "Am I underdressed?" Chance looked down at her plain tan leathers.

"You look fine!" answered Arndís, "you don't need anything extra other than those gorgeous locks of yours to draw the eyes of Hunters. They are amazing! I've never seen locks the color of yours before."

Chance's eyes gleamed at the other's recognition of her unique appearance and the reference that it would be attractive to the opposite sex. "I never thought of them as special until I came here. Do almost all of you have black locks? I mean, except for the old ones?"

"They are properly referred to as Elders, Chance. Honorable Elders is even better. They have accomplished much and earned our respect! And to answer your question, most of us have black locks. A few Yautja have more of a brown tone to theirs and of course there is the unique Honorable Theron with his gray ones."

"Oh, yeah…him."

"Come with me, Chance, and I'll show you around" The two set off enthusiastically chatting about everything as Arndís pointed out the various buildings and dwellings.

"So, all the Hunters who are on-planet live in that apartment building?"

"Sei, those are the quarters for fully mature Hunters, the YoungBloods have another building and the UnBlooded another. When they aren't here on Yaut they are off on group or solo Hunts, or on their respective Clanships. Not all come to the homeworld, many spent most of their life on their Clanship."

"What's the difference between them, Arndís? I mean the Hunters, YoungBloods and UnBlooded and why do they have separate buildings?"

"It is a matter of tradition and respect for level of accomplishment. The UnBloods have left the care of their Bearer, or what you call their mother, and are in training. They have not completed Chiva. They are young, brash and foolish. None of the others would tolerate them for long!" She gave a chortle. "The YoungBloods have completed Chiva but have not yet produced offspring. Although they are adults in the Clan they are not fully mature. Fully mature Hunters have shown that they can successfully Sire pups and are afforded quarters befitting their status."

"Well, what about us?"

"Us?" blinked Arndís.

"You know – us girls. Do we quarter alongside the males?"

Arndís quietly thought for a moment. "You mean you don't know?" blurted out Chance, incredulity on her face.

"I'm trying to recall from my studies. Remember, I only have sisters and we were always raised apart from the males. Sei, I recall it now. Young siblings are raised together in their Bearer's house. In former times when training began and they were of age, they were taken away to camp and the sexes were initially housed together. But only for a few long cycles. After that, as they began to mature, they were separated until after Chiva. The males might only see the females again at the first rut, but usually not even then because the females almost always choose someone older to mate with the first time." Arndís chortled again, adding, "There are many side benefits to being a Trainer! Females usually want to be with an older, experienced male they know for their first time. The list of Hunters who wish to become Trainers is long!"

"So, have you picked one out yet?" Chance asked innocently, and then watched in fascination as Arndís' face turned a pronounced green. "Are you ill, Arndís?"

"H'ko, I am not ill. We are at the city market now. See all the vendor's spaces? What would you like to look at first?"

Chance looked this way and that, taking in the sea of riches spread before her. She had never seen so many items, so many things, all in one place. The variety and colors made her head swim as the constant din of clicks and growls came at her as a low roar. "I…I…I have no idea where to start. Please lead the way," she managed to say. So, Arndís took her by the hand and began to show her the market. They started with the weapons and armor vendors. Sally had given Chance some currency as a gift when she heard that the girls would be visiting the market. The daughter of Duncan was appreciative of the blades, lances and other unknown devices, but wanted to take in the entire array of goods before she decided what to spend her precious funds upon. So Arndís guided her through all the other wares.

Winding among the many carts and stands that were loosely organized into sectors of the same type of wares the two females frequently stopped to examine and touch, with Arndís often asking questions of the vendor. When she found something she desired, she would bargain politely with the merchant until a deal was reached. Chance watched the proceedings with great interest but had not yet indicated she wished to purchase anything for herself.

In the cloth and leather section, they wrapped different colored cloths about themselves trying to decide which of the rather drab hues made them most appealing. They drooled over trinkets, colored stones and anatomically correct Hunter statues designed for private alcoves and gardens. Then they took a break in the shade of a beverage vendor's garden and enjoyed freshly squeezed Naxa juice while sitting at a small table.

"This is delicious! Too bad our underground living quarters were so far away from the Naxa fields when I was a kid. I would have eaten nothing else!" Chance smacked her lips in a satisfied way which Arndís watched in fascination.

"Don't those get in the way?" she wondered aloud.

"What?"

"The flesh over your teeth. Don't you bite it or find it cumbersome?"

"Well…no! I've always had lips so they don't seem in the way to me. And yes, on occasion I have bitten them – but not badly," Chance grinned.

"They do give you an advantage when drinking," Arndís noted.

"They do! See, I don't have to tip my head back to drink. My lips keep it all in my mouth." The two females laughed together. Chance suddenly looked thoughtfully at her new friend.

"You never answered my question, you know."

"I didn't?" Arndís feigned ignorance.

"Come on! I bet you've got some Hunter already picked out and as soon as you get back from Chiva, you'll jump him!"

"Never! Jumping on a Hunter is not the proper way to express interest in him."

"Oh, I know! I read about it – you shove them in the chest. It is a handy move at times." Chance grinned slyly. "And don't think you can evade my question."

Arndís looked nervous. "There is someone that I'm…interested in. But it doesn't matter who I might find attractive – our mates are already selected for us."

"WHAT? Why?"

"The High Council did it, along with advice from the Healers and I think even the Matriarch was in on it. They did it to ensure the best matchup of Bloodlines in order to make sure that none of us will be too closely crossed with the lines we came from. I mean our Sire's lines. We need genetic variation in our pups. I can understand it. It makes sense." She looked longingly across the still bustling market.

"Except that you've already got the hots for someone, right?"

"Hots? What is that?"

"You've met somebody that you'd like to mate. Am I right?"

Arndís looked down at the stone squares making up the city plaza. "Sei, I have. I have tried to forget him, but find that I do not truly want to. So I pray to Paya that he is the one that has been selected for me. Please tell no one of this."

"Your secret is safe with me. Who is he?"

"Oh, do not ask me to tell you that!" a horrified Arndís exclaimed. "It is better if no one knows. If I tell anyone, it might somehow get out and I…I would not want my mate to know that I would have preferred another. No good could come from such knowledge!"

"Is the Hunter you would choose good enough for you?"

"Sei! He is most Honorable and respected! He is strong and brave and everything I could ask of in a mate."

"Is he hot?"

"Again, I do not understand you, Chance."

"He's attractive to you – you know, sexy. You wanna get it on with him."

Arndís brought all her focus on trying to understand Chance's odd use of English, then replied, "If you are referring to his physical desirability and my longing to mate with him then yes, he is completely desirable!"

"Well, if it was me, I wouldn't let anybody tell me who I was gonna to fuck."

This was the first time that Arndís had heard that particular English word, but it was close enough to the Yautja slang that meant the act of rut that she understood it immediately and retorted, "Well, if you were me you'd realize that the good of all of Yaut comes before my own desires!"

"So, your own choice of a Hunter is bad for everybody?" Chance shot back. That caught Arndís because she knew that no one was more respected than her Hunter - ANY female would be pleased to mingle her own Bloodline with his! Plus he was a good several branches away from her own part of the Clan's genetic heritage. It was certainly something to think about. Not wanting to pursue this any farther at the moment, she abruptly asked, "I must think about it. Have you decided what you would like to purchase?"

"Yes, I mean Sei. Can we return to the weapons area? I saw a blade that I'd really like to have."

Arndís clicked away for a moment and then replied, "You are like my sister. Come and see all the beautiful cloth, decorative arm bands and neck chains with colored stones and then decide to buy a weapon! I suspect that she'll grieve at becoming a Bearer and leaving the Hunt behind. Come on!"

They took a route straight to the weaponry rather than retracing the meandering course through all the hawkers of goods. It took Chance just a few moments to relocate the blade she fancied and after some haggling, with help from Arndís, it was secured at her waist in a fine leather sheath. It had taken most of the trade coin to buy it, so she considered her shopping done for the cycle. But Arndís had other ideas.

"Now that you have what you desire, let us go back to the cloth vendors. I saw a piece there of a unique color that…" Suddenly, Arndís turned pale as all the verdant blood seemed to drain from her face. Her eyes became larger as she seemed to stare beyond her friend at something.

"Are you okay?" Chance asked, and then turned to see what the UnBlood female was staring at. There were many Hunters and Aseigan milling about the market. Nothing particularly to take notice of, she decided.

Chance felt her arm grabbed roughly as Arndís whispered excitedly, "Oh Paya, it is HIM! I prayed that I would see him today. It is HIM!"

Chance looked again at the crowd and whispered back, "Okay. You gotta give me a hint here. I see maybe thirty Hunters right now. Which one is HIM?"

"The very large one looking at short blades. The one with the silvery locks weighted down with an excess of honor rings."

Chance stared at the Elder whose brawny back was to her right now. "Christ, his locks are long! You can barely see them through all the rings! What's his name?" Only silence answered her and Chance turned to see Arndís with a dismayed look on her face. "What?" Chance asked. "What's wrong?"

"I…I never thought about it before. I don't know his name! I've always called him by his titles!" she wailed. "And oh Paya, he's walking this way! Don't stare! Pretend to be looking at the blade you bought!"

Arndís orders came crisply to Chance, who pulled out her purchase and both girls began to studiously examine it. Chance gamely pointed out all the features of the blade that she admired and that had driven her to buy it, while Arndís listened and nodded from time to time. When the blade had been microscopically exhausted, Arndís began to describe the cloth that she wished to purchase. She was about to direct them to begin walking back to the cloth vendors when a magnificent rumble caused her heart to stop.

"Greetings, student. I had hoped you were preparing for Chiva."

Both girls turned and nodded their respect, Arndís giving the required low bow and humility of the student to the Trainer. "My Trainer and Honorable Leader of the High Council, this cycle I am showing my new friend our fine city. May I present the UnBlood Chance who is a student under Honorable Trainer Theron."

"I know of you Chance," he said rather stiffly. "I trust you will learn quickly and do as well as Arndís. She is a fine example of a great Bloodline," he nodded to Arndís, who was nearly giddy by this time but managed to interpret for Chance.

"I am purely honored that you know of me," Chance replied humbly, her eyes properly down. "And I am honored to be entrusted to learn and have my Chiva opportunity. I will succeed!" Arndís eyes glowed as she translated her friend's words for the High Elder who focused upon her as she spoke. Having his attention while standing so close asked nearly more of her than she could stand. But she controlled her scent, and managed not to exude the fragrance of lust directly into the High Elder's face.

"I ask Paya that you both are successful in Chiva," the Elder said, as Arndís managed to look up at him. "And return to us with your Clan marks ready to take your place among us." He returned her gaze and did not chide her for her lack of respect. Then a brief smile crossed his upper mandibles before he nodded to Arndís and left, his red cloak a great swirl about him. Arndís stood staring at him until he disappeared, only to be interrupted by Chance.

"Oh my god, you've got it bad girl! In fact, even I can smell you right now."

_You can? _said Arndís' face as clearly as if she had spoken. Both girls did a double-time walk back to her quarters where she could bathe and use the flower spray. As a friendly social gesture, Arndís invited Chance to share the pool with her. The request caught the red-head off guard, and she exuded the scent of discomfort. Arndís astutely responded, "Bathing is often a social experience here and shared with friends. I did not intend to cause you discomfort."

Sensing the female's sincerity, Chance regained some composure, "I was…just surprised and didn't know how to take it. I didn't understand what you meant."

"Do you know of some other meaning attached to an invitation to bathe?"

"Well, yes. In our group, when we lived under the ruins, sometimes the boys would ask us to swim with them. It was always an invitation to sex. One of the girls went with them the first time. She was raped and nearly drowned! After that, none of us would go with them! Assholes!" Chance fumed at the memory of the soaking, bleeding girl in a crouch on the shoreline trying to cough up the water in her lungs. She coughed until she vomited.

"I am glad that those times are over for you," Arndís said softly. "Rape is an almost unknown crime to us. Regarding my invitation, it is not unknown for our females to sometimes seek each other out for sexual satisfaction, but I have no inclination that way. My invitation to you is simply that of a friend who enjoys your novel perspective of my world."

"Thanks, Arndís, maybe some other time. I'm just not comfortable with the idea. You go bathe and I'm going to return to the guest quarters. I know the way."

"Very well, then. I had a wonderful time today."

"I did too. Catch ya later then!" Chance returned a broad smile that showed all her front teeth which made her friend catch her breath. "Did I do something wrong?" Chance ventured.

"Baring teeth is a signal of aggression here. You might want to be careful with that," guided Arndís.

"Jesus! So much to learn here. Will I ever get it all?" Chance wailed.

"You will in time. You might ask the Matriarch about it. I'm certain it took her time to become accustomed to our ways."

"Thanks! I will. And I'll be careful with my teeth. Later!" Chance darted out the door and was gone. Arndís turned on the warm water and began to fill her bath. _Her manners are rough, but her heart seems good and she does seem to possess sense. Paya – guide her training path and ensure she is provided with everything she needs to win her Chiva! What is an asshole? What is a Jesus? I need to remember to look those words up._

Chance settled into a slow jog for the trip back home. It felt good to run even though the day had been spent in walking. Her mind was busy reviewing the events of the day, but she was aware enough to politely nod to anyone she passed. _I wonder if I could ever feel anything for a Hunter or for anyone. Arndís seemed to think that my locks would make them want me. She seemed truthful about that. Jesus! What would I do if a Hunter came on to me? Run like hell for sure! She said that rape was 'nearly unknown' not 'completely unknown'. One of those big fuckers would kill me for sure! _

By the time Chance reached her doorway, she had vowed to never let herself be alone in a room with a Yautja male. On the off-chance that he didn't know that rape was 'nearly unknown'. _After I pass my Chiva, I'll be allowed, expected is more like it, to fuck – or mate as they put it. Are they gonna set me up with someone too? They can kiss that shit goodbye! Nobody tells me who's gonna get to enjoy THIS! _

**A/N: Hang on those of you who are action fans - Chiva will happen! I made a tremendous logic error in the last chappie and going back to fix it. Nobody mentioned it, but it bugs moi! Hope you enjoyed this little chapter. Much appreciation to all my readers and to those who keep me inspired to continue!**


	5. Chapter Four: Running Out of Time

**Chapter Four: Running Out of Time**

_All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. - Anatole France_

With nothing to do but routine sparring and keeping fit, the Huntresses were fast becoming occupied with getting on each others nerves. So in order to preserve them without injury for their delayed Chiva, Aldúlfr and some of the other Trainers had taken them off-world in search of suitably challenging prey that would likely leave them intact. The trek had provided much needed release for the young females as they enjoyed stalking, tracking and dispatching their prey while learning more about working with their team. The team that was short a member had to make do with one of the Trainers to make a party of three. He tried very hard not to lead them and make them rely on their own resources. The teams returned to Yaut with nerves somewhat eased as demonstrated by the decline of grouchiness and bickering. The females also had many trophies and exciting stories to share with their mother and Matriarch. However, each of them realized that the Hunt had been not only to keep their skills honed, but to ease their growing anxiety and also kill time as the odd newcomer ran through her training at lightning speed.

Chance was doing her best to pick up all the techniques and tactics that Trainer Theron showed her. She worked long and hard throughout the hours of light and often even on into the evening perfecting each cycle's lesson. Each night found her exhausted and sore as she took to her long warm soak and some nourishment. Pricked by a small amount of guilt at her fruitless stretching and stiff morning warm-up, her Trainer eventually sent an Aseigan to her quarters each evening to rub the knots from her muscles so that she could perform the next day. She was grateful to Theron for the talented servant, as well as the patient, yet grueling, instruction given in each training session. He had said nothing to her regarding her first spar with him, and she had not mentioned it either. She had quickly grown to respect and even admire the gray Hunter's superior skills and realized that her lone victory over him was a complete fluke brought about only by her desperate tactic. Yet, she also realized that in a real battle she only required one desperate tactic to win. A smile brushed her lips with this thought as they met again in the sacred Kehrite of the High Counsel.

She nodded respectfully to him upon entering the arched doorway, and stood in front of him with eyes properly lowered. He immediately addressed her, "Your mastery of the spar and basic weaponry is progressing well. Today we will concentrate on a different area – your stamina. The Chiva pyramid is large and you must be ready for a potentially long fight. Come!" he ordered and led her out of the building and onto the avenue. "Follow and keep up!" he snapped crisply as he began to run. Chance obediently fell into a steady pace behind him as two High Council guards fell in behind both of them for added security. The pace was ridiculously easy which Chance suspected was simply to help her warm up or might mean they were going to run a great distance. Her breath came easy as she indulged in looking around, taking in the sights of the city.

The avenue was the broadest in the city and made of perfectly smooth stone pavers cut from the nearby cliffs. The road was the same dark yellow-brown color as all the stone buildings and walkways in the city and reflected the pinkish golden sunrise so that the entire metropolis glowed with light. They skirted around the market space, a triangular plaza where the merchants were as busy as insects setting up for the day.

The road still moved easily under her feet as she kept on the heels of the Trainer running effortlessly in front of her. As the buildings thinned near the edge of the city, the road turned and led out onto the desert plains. Theron kept to the path and increased his speed as they left the structures of civilization behind. He heard his student's pace increase also as well as the heavy thumping of the nimble strides of the guards. He listened closely to her breath and found it still regular and steady. So far, so good - he would see how she handled changes in both speed and terrain throughout this cycle. He smiled internally, thinking, _she has only imagined that she was tired before at the end of a cycle of training. This cycle, she will begin to learn the meaning of true fatigue. _His thoughts strayed to Melanie back on the Blue Planet. _My mate was very understanding when I explained to her that I would not be coming to Earth for a time. I will apply to the Matriarch to spend an extra few cycles on the planet when I make the next trip. It will not be that long of a time between visits for me, but it will be for her. _

He quickened his pace again, and heard those behind him speed up also. Chance's breathing betrayed a quickening but then settled down into a regular rhythm as her lungs remembered their past efficiency. The runners sped along the broad trail which was now simply packed surface rather than stone. The way was still smooth as thousands of Eta had cleared it, centuries ago, of any stones or pebbles.

Chance felt her body respond as Theron again ran just a little faster. Her competitive nature called for her to overtake him and leave only dust for him to inhale, but she knew better than to be discourteous to her Trainer and truthfully, she did not know if she could beat him. A moment of worry had seized her when her body had balked at the increased work asked of it, but the moment had fled as she joyfully realized that all of her childhood runs through the vast temple ruins had conditioned her well for this.

They ran on as the sun rose higher over the rock-strewn plain, completely barren of any vegetation or large features. It seemed as though she could see the curve of the planet on the horizon where the brown ground of Yaut met the greenish-blue rose in tiny beads on the surface of her body, and then ran in rivulets down her back and into the cleavage between her firmly bound breasts. It gathered in clear pearls upon her forehead and then ran down to be channeled around her eyes by the fine brow and nose structure of her face. Chance realized that she was becoming a little warm and also thought that a gulp of water would be quite refreshing at this point. She saw that her Trainer carried no flask and wondered if the guards behind her had any.

Long shadows cast by irregularly strewn boulders had begun to grow shorter when Chance's keen eyes spotted a change in the horizon. Instead of brown against a green-blue edge, the distance almost glowed in a stripe of brilliant green. _The edge of the jungle! Are we running all the way to the jungle?_ The road of pressed rock dust led them on as the emerald edge ahead grew wider. A sharp ache began in her left side, but she tried to ignore it and ran on, figuring it was only a muscle cramping from the strain. Her breath was coming harder now as she pushed away the specter of fatigue that began to nibble at her churning legs that fought to keep the pace set by Theron.

The gray Hunter was considering upping his stride a notch but heard the laboring begin behind him and decided to stay his current speed. He wanted to see how long she could go and how hard she would fight to stay with him – not destroy her. For him, this was a now a moderate run and his muscles that had strained to keep the easy pace through and out of the city had rejoiced when he had sped up. His breath still came light and steady as his conditioned body almost hummed like a well-oiled machine. It was good to get away from civilization and clear his mind in the mantra of the beat of his own footfalls. _She's not going to make the jungle. Will she make the edge of the fields?_ Even the guard's footfalls seemed less enthusiastic to his keen hearing. _I requested fit and conditioned Hunters from the High Council to escort us on this trip! If they don't keep up, it will be my duty to inform the High Council of their inferiority – something I don't relish doing. If I point out problems, I'll probably be assigned to fix them! _He kept his senses tuned to his student, even as his mind wandered elsewhere while he ran.

Chance could have now made out the structure of the green edge if she had cared to do so – but her mind was totally consumed with the fight to put one foot in front of the other and to keep pulling in the inadequate air. Her legs felt insubstantial, as though they were turning into mere strips of hide. Her mouth was open and she was panting and in pain. Her lungs were on fire and her brain screamed STOP! But Chance was determined to keep going, even as she lost ground and fell father and father behind her Trainer. The guards fell back with her, unadmittedly grateful for the slower pace. Fully aware that she was falling behind, Theron kept his pace up to see if it would spur her to find untapped reserves. When he crossed the threshold of the first field and she was no longer detectable behind him, he hooked his run to the right and turned back. He could still see the two guards who appeared to be hovering over Chance who was apparently on the ground. Theron put on his full speed to get to her.

When he pulled near and slowed, he saw the female with all fours in the dirt, her neck bent down as she gasped for air. He waited with the guards as she caught her breath and tried not to faint. Her heaving back was dry he noticed, concluding that she was probably dehydrated. Her body was not equipped for the planet's punishing sun at mid-cycle – especially without water. "Do not try to stand," he ordered, "until your breathing is normal." She did not hear his words as the fight to take in air consumed her.

Chance's mouth felt drier than the dust beneath her palms. The wretched breaths eventually calmed as her heart slowed, her body rested and the necessary molecules of life were delivered via her lungs to her heart and other organs. Becoming aware of her surroundings, she self-consciously realized that Theron and the guards were standing over her and began to try to stand. Strong hands immediately held her down and the rich voice spoke, "Stay down. Do not try to stand yet. You did well, student – there is no shame in resting now."

She did not relax until she heard the pronouncement that she had done well. Eventually her breathing became normal and she sat on the ground and looked up at the Hunters who were now standing over to one side and quietly talking among themselves. "Do any of you have any water?" She croaked out the words from her dusty mouth.

One of the guards came over and bent to hand down a blessed flask of relief which she remembered to only sip at and not gulp. Theron kept his watchful eye on her as she took her first few small swallows, and then ordered, "Get up, student. You must walk now. Keep the flask and drink as you walk."

She moved to obey him and found that her legs were already stiff. Awkwardly she stood as if all her tendons had contracted and then began to walk. With each step, her stride became smoother until she was walking freely again. Her Trainer led her and the guards through the cultivated fields where Eta and Aseigan worked to supply the cities with accompaniments to their meals of meat. The roadway was narrow here as it preserved all available ground for cultivation. Wide enough for two carts to pass, it was still firmly surfaced and smooth. Chance wondered if the cart wheels ever made ruts in the path after the seasonal rains. Her question was quickly answered as they came upon a team of workers working on the road in front of them. They were using a mechanical implement to churn the soil and then tamp it down. After the initial tamping, they went over it with sharp eyes, looking for any stones to remove. Then the tamper was used in earnest to solidify the surface. The workers quickly moved aside as they approached and stood on the edge of the field with eyes staring at their feet. The Hunters said nothing to them, nor did they venture to even lift an eyelid at the walking party.

However, Chance looked at them carefully. They were a sturdy group, made hard and strong by a life of labor, they were all Yautja but bore no Clan marks on their foreheads and their locks were naked without honor rings. She wondered what had led each of them to their lowly station. Peering closer, she saw that one of them had fused digits on his hands and toes. There were no obvious deformities on the others except that she could see they were all very slight in tusk and mandible. She remembered her dead brothers and her miscarriage. Suddenly she heard a growl from Theron and realized that her stride had slowed. Springing forward, she felt the impulse to ask also spring forth from her lips, "Honorable Trainer, may I ask a question?"

He stopped so quickly that she almost collided with him and the two guards nearly made her into a Huntress sandwich. Theron turned and she was relieved to scent no anger on him. "Ask," he said quietly.

"The Eta who were repairing the road back there. I noticed that they all bore physical problems. One had webbed fingers and toes; they all had very small mandibles and tusks. Are they Eta because of their deformities?"

"You are observant, student. Yes, it does not happen often, but those Yautja are most likely Eta because of physical problems. However, the undersized mandibles and tusks are due to castration."

The female searched her memory but found no reference for the word, 'castration'. "Honorable Trainer, I lack understanding as I am not familiar with last word you used." She bowed in humility. "Please teach me." Had they been speaking in Yautja, the guards would have clicked with laughter but Chance would probably never speak it due to the lack of tusked outer jaws.

"Castration means that their seed-makers were removed," he said patiently, looking for a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. They were very beautiful eyes, he decided, so different with their two colors – the band of near gold surrounding the green part in each set of round muscles that formed the aperture which allowed light to pass through the lens. He had once studied the eye structure of his prey, believing that a collection of lenses would form a beautiful decoration to present to any female he might fancy for future rut. Chance's eyes remained confused as she guessed at the answer.

"Do you mean his balls? He had his balls cut off?" Her refined face flushed with a bit of green as she saw the affirmation of her guess in his nod. "God! What did they do to deserve that?" Her distaste for castration flooded his scent organs with the bitterness of disgust tainted by fear. He remembered hearing what had happened to the young males of her group.

"It is our way, student. Each of them has some condition which makes them unfit to Sire pups. We do not allow weakness to perpetuate! They live a more content life without feeling the need to breed. You saw they bore no Clan marks?" She nodded. "Their weakness was discovered early in life, so that they were not allowed to Chiva – they were probably not even trained. Still, they have useful lives helping to provide for all. They are given protection, homes, medical care, food, – everything they require for life. In return, they toil for the city here in the fields. It is not the life of a Hunter, but it is life. A productive, useful life." He now saw and scented her sorrow. "Do you think them treated dishonorably?"

"In purity, I do not know. I was mourning the loss of my brothers. I wish they could have lived. But I don't think they would have been happy with a life like those Eta back there have."

Theron was suddenly curious, "Why would they have been unhappy?"

"Because up to the point they were killed, their lives were free. They could do whatever they wanted – including being mean and hateful to the rest of us!"

"Then you should be glad they are dead."

"I'm glad that some of them are, but my youngest brothers were so small when they were killed. I don't think my mother will ever forgive any of you for that!"

"Your mother will return to Earth. My only concern is…can you? Can you forgive for what happened to your brothers – more importantly, can you see the need for what happened and the mercy in it?"

Chance realized she was staring angrily at Theron and dropped her eyes respectfully back down. "I don't know, Honorable Trainer. Only time will tell."

"You speak purely. Let us continue our walk; there is a hovercraft up ahead waiting to transport us back to the city."

Chance's eyes became wide with surprise, "There is?"

"You question my words," he growled, ready to backhand her impudence.

"No! Never, Honorable Trainer. I am just surprised. How did you know that I would be able to run almost to the fields? How did you know to have a craft here for us?"

"I didn't." With that he turned around and began walking again, and Chance followed him silently with the guards in tow. _So I guess it's just a coincidence then, to have the transport here for us. Or maybe he called for it when I was down on the ground trying not to die! How humiliating! I WILL SUCCEED, Trainer! Do you feel the power of my thoughts!_

The hovercraft was waiting at the jungle edge in a clearing where it could land and not damage the cultivated plants. He boarded last after assisting his smaller student into her seat and waiting for the guards to get in on each side of her. He took the seat beside the pilot and huffed gently at the cocktail emitted by his student. _Embarrassment…anger…determination…focus. She will need most of that to win. At sunrise we'll go back to some weaponry use and then the next cycle we'll run again. We can not afford to take a single cycle off if she is to be ready. She requires medicine if she is to train tomorrow. She will be the student most accustomed to our field medication, I fear, by the time she goes to Chiva. _

* * *

Back in the city, Sally was in her Receiving Hall, accepting a most unexpected visitor. The Dor'an High Elder had requested an audience with her. No one from the High Council had requested to see her before – not individually, and not at her dwelling. She sat a bit self-consciously on her throne-like chair as he stood before her and gave a deep nod of respect while announcing himself, "Honorable Matriarch, I am Honorable High Elder A'lkai-os of the Dor'an Clan. I am honored that you have accepted the invitation to speak with me."

Sally stood and returned his nod, "Honorable High Elder A-lkai-os, it is I who am honored by your desire to come to my apartment. May I observe that you speak excellent English."

"It is passable, Matriarch. It is my wish that we may not require your translator."

"Yes, I am sure we will be able to communicate with all accuracy. My translator, Honorable Theron, is also of the Dor'an Clan."

"Sei, Honorable Matriarch. It is he who I wish to speak of."

Sally offered him a chair at her comfortable table and then retrieved a flask of c'ntlip to pour him a drink. They were both aware that it was an act of great respect for her to act as a servant to him. "I am Honored," he intoned raising his cup to salute her before quaffing it. She also saluted him and sipped from the smaller cup she had poured for herself. The cups returned to the table with a small clink and the Matriarch asked, "How may I assist you regarding Theron?"

She took her time slowly looking over the large Hunter. Most of the Dor'an had a tendency to be slight, and this Elder was no exception. However, since he had lived many cycles and, like all Yautja, grew a little every one of them, he was the largest Dor'an she had ever seen and certainly larger than she was. She gamely held his gaze as her eyes finally met his dark ones. They were nearly black and the contrast of his eyes with his pale locks was striking. She raised one eyebrow to signal she was waiting for him to speak, one of the few Yautja facial expressions she could nearly copy.

A'lkai-os cleared his throat and began, "The Elders of my Clan have approached me with evidence that Theron has violated our laws. The penalty is death." His blunt delivery sent chills down Sally's back as her heart nearly stopped. She considered Theron a friend. He was a devoted translator who had sacrificed his own dignity to ensure she was informed. He was the mate of Melanie. They had also taken the BloodBond together! The Matriarch tried to keep her cool as thoughts raced through her head.

"Why do you come to me with this information?" she asked the High Elder.

"When you were first made Matriarch, Myn'dill came to me to request a translator for you. Out of all the potential Warriors, I chose Theron. His English was the best of all those I examined, and he possesses uncanny sensitivity to others, which makes him not only an excellent translator, but an excellent Trainer. It would be a great loss to all of us if he were no longer training our pups!"

Sally did not conceal her surprise at the Elder's words, "You come to me to help save him? How?"

"If he was to be offered acceptance by another Clan, by your Clan, and he were to receive a new mark, he would no longer be bound by Dor'an law."

The Matriarch's hand moved to her forehead to finger the thin scar there as she remembered the day she had received it. It was shortly after she had accepted the High Council's bid to become Matriarch. She had found out that part of the Council's discussion over proclaiming her Matriarch was that she bore no Clan mark. She had spoken with Ulfr about this and he had spoken with his High Elder regarding acceptance into their Clan. She had been granted an honorary acceptance that was unheard of and would be questioned for centuries by those who studied history – she was allowed to wear the mark without a Chiva. Ulfr and his High Elder had agreed that training and Chiva would be pointless exercises as she did not possess the physical strength to succeed in either venture. So she was granted the mark by virtue of already being Matriarch and by her demonstrated Honor. Ulfr had accompanied her to the office of his High Elder beneath the meeting rooms of the Council, and there had given her the official mark. Myn'dil had provided a medication to relax her and dull the pain, but the burning acid etch was forever engrained in her memory and she nearly winced remembering the torture of it. In front of the High Elder, she had bitten the inside of her lip until it bled as the symbol was carved into her flesh. She had not cried out, or made any noise as the emblem of the Od'hroer-ir Clan was delivered to her. Afterwards, Ulfr had led her away and as soon as they were back in her quarters, out of public view, had quickly applied the pain-killing salve provided by Myn'dill. Ulfr had set her on her bed, and then placed himself beside her. He held her and praised her bravery as the cooling ointment dried the tears forming in her eyes. "You are forever an Honored part of my Clan," he pronounced proudly, longing to run a finger over her mark but knowing it would cause discomfort.

Sally's attention came back to the present moment. What could she do to get her Clan to adopt Theron? The answer came quickly into her mind and she addressed A'lkai-os. "I shall speak with my Consort and he will bear my message to our Clan Elders. Your loyalty and service to all of Yaut will be remembered, Honorable A-lkai-os."

"Such must be the perspective of a High Elder," he returned. "I must look farther than the interests of only the Dor'an. To speak purely, I am also fond of Theron." He gave her an immense smile.

"May I ask a question?"

"Certainly, Honorable Matriarch."

"Which laws has he broken? I need to know."

"He has mated outside the Clan – with an ooman. The Dor'an consider that an abomination. They would kill him, along with any pup produced by the union."

Sally looked at him with amazement on her face, "He knew this would happen! He knew and he pursued Melanie anyway! How did he think he would escape the consequences?"

"I do not have the answer to your question, Matriarch. Perhaps he did not care."

"How can the Dor'an be so upset with this that they have a law forbidding it, and you sit here calmly with no apparent disgust at his actions at all?"

"I have a broader perspective on such things," he chortled. Sally's eyes narrowed and her brow assumed its thinking pose.

"I am grateful that you have brought this to my attention," she said with real feeling. "I agree that the death of Theron would be a significant loss to all of us. As soon as the High Elder had left, she summoned Aldúlfr who had only just returned from escorting the Huntress teams.

He was amazed at her story, both at the disregard by Theron of Dor'an law, and the willingness of the High Elder to attempt to save him. "I wonder if the High Elder has his own ooman female hidden somewhere?" he asked Sally through Sig'dan.

"That would be rich! You know in the history of the Blue Planet it has been very common for those in power to disregard their own rules and do whatever they want to do."

"Such a thing is without Honor!" Aldúlfr growled back.

"Sei," answered Sally, "it is! But Earth has no code of Honor such as Yaut has. I was just making a comparison. Will you approach our Clan Elders with my request to honor Theron by offering him membership in our Clan?"

"I will," he replied, "and I will make the request from both of us, with your permission of course. Theron must be preserved."

"Of course! Aldúlfr, do you think he will accept?"

"Why would he not?" the Elder growled. "To be offered such an Honor! Why would he not accept?"

"I don't know that is why I'm asking!" she growled back. "Honestly, you are crabby today!"

Sig'dan clicked with humor as he translated this last for the Elder Arbitrator. Aldúlfr addressed his offspring, "You tell her. I'm going for a soak!" Aldúlfr tromped from the room as Sally looked expectantly to Sig'dan.

"Remember, fair Matriarch, he has been cooped up on a ship with a group of maturing females. I'm sure they are getting very touchy at this point, and also becoming quite tempting to any Hunter!"

"I had forgotten where he's been, Sig-dan! I owe him an apology!"

"Not now, Sal-lee! Wait until he's in a better mood. Speaking of a soak, have you bathed yet today?"

"No, I haven't," she said in a sultry voice. "I only took a quick shower this morning and I could certainly use a relaxing bath right now. Do you know anyone who'd like to wash my back for me?"

"I'll see if I can find an Aseigan," he joked, giving her backside a small slap.

She turned in mock anger at him, "Do you challenge me?"

He pulled her against him and bent to run tusks over her head. "I do," he replied softly. "I challenge you to see who has the most pleasure!"

She reached up and tapped him mid-chest. "I accept your challenge! Ready yourself Hunter! I am not easily bested!" She gave a mock cry of fear as he took hold of her and began to throw her over his shoulder, but immediately halted as the false cry became real.

Carefully putting her down, he saw one of her hands gripping her other shoulder. "That hurt! That's never hurt before! What's wrong with me, Sig-dan?"

The Hunter went to the storage area where he kept medical supplies in the room, just in case of an emergency. Running a scanner over her shoulder he reported, "Sal-lee – your shoulder bone is broken! Did you do something earlier?"

"No. I've been so busy today that I've not even worked out yet. How could it be broken?"

"Then logically, I broke it when I lifted you. Please come with me to the Healer's Hall. I want to run some detailed tests."

"Sure, but this hurts like a bitch! Can you give me something?"

He delivered a syringe of the pain medication he had created just for her. It was a milder version of the standard Yautja blue field medication that did not cause her much discomfort. It healed her quickly and was well tolerated. "Thanks," she responded as the pain eased and then joked, "This is certainly not what I had in mind in the way of a challenge!"

Sig'dan whisked her to the Hall in a hovercraft and quickly had her on his table with several machines in action over her. She lay very still for the few minutes the scans took and then waited for a verdict from her lover and Healer. Myn'dill entered, having been called by Sig'dan before they left her quarters. He and Sig'dan viewed the test results and rumbled and clicked to each other until Sally could stand it no more. "Hey guys! Wanna let me in on the results?"

They turned to her and it was Sig'dan who addressed her, his voice full of emotion, "Sal-lee, Myn'dill's life extension supplements are not working as well for you anymore. Your bones have thinned dangerously at an extremely rapid rate." His face was somber and Sally could see the pain in his eyes.

"What can be done?" she asked, addressing Myn'dill.

"He doesn't know at this point," her mate replied. "But he's going to do more experimentation. Until then, he requests that you move about as little as possible. The slightest bump might shatter a bone."

"I will do as he requests, but you know this is going to seriously hamper my sex life!" Sally gave Sig'dan one of her best optimistic grins, and he nodded to her in return. "Have faith, Sig-dan," she told him. "Myn'dill is a genius! He can fix anything."

"Sal-lee, you can not live forever," Sig'dan stated grimly.

"I know, my love. But I bet that I can live a little longer! You'll see," she addressed him bravely.


	6. Chapter Five: Improbable

**Chapter Five: Improbable**

_Never give up. Never surrender. – Jason Nesmith_

The Matriarch lay stoically still upon the harsh metal table, letting the Healer insert a needle into her arm. It had taking some explaining to him that she wanted a human-sized needle created and that she preferred to have it inserted into her arm rather than her neck. He had eventually understood and so had a smaller needle, instead of what she was certain would have been properly used on an elephant, made for her. She felt cold and wished for a nice mattress or at least an insulating fur between her nearly bare back and the cold surface. She couldn't help but shiver a little as the cool yellow fluid was slowly dripped into one of her veins.

"Cold?" Myn'dill asked, watching her shake.

"Sei, it would be more comfortable if I had a fur to lie on." He responded by flipping a switch on the bottom edge of the medical gurney and Sally immediately felt comforted as the table began to warm. "Well, damn! I didn't know these could heat up! After all the cycles I've come to you for exams and care, Myndill, and you never told me?" Indignation rose slightly in her voice.

"Not complain before," he retorted, rechecking the drip rate for the umpteenth time and silently praying to Paya that this newly invented elixir would help the Matriarch. She had begun to age quickly from the inside out. From the outside, no one could tell. Her skin was still strong and smooth – not the thin translucent tissue of an elderly ooman. Her face contained the lines of expression that had deepened over the many cycles and there was a small fan of crinkles on the outside corner of each of her eyes. Her long hair had also changed to a brilliant white quite some time ago but still maintained the sheen of her younger years. Inside her body, quite a different tale was told.

The Matriarch's bones had become fragile and Swiss cheesed with tiny holes as they decalcified. Her kidneys and liver were not filtering well and had enlarged in their attempt to maintain function. Her heart still beat strongly, for now, but it too was showing signs of damage. The medication that eked into her system would attempt to coax her body into a repair of the failing critical organs this one last time. Microscopic examination of her telemeres showed told Myn'dill that they had shortened drastically since the last time the Healer had examined them, just a few full moons ago. Her body was finally failing in its ability to restore itself, and he was not hopeful that he could do much about it. This was a final desperate attempt to salvage more time for her, in order to buy time to choose a new Matriarch. To have her exit life now, before the new one was ready to ascend to her position, would leave a dangerous gap in a role already made tenuous because it was occupied by an alien prey creature. No matter how hard Sally had tried to become a part of this culture, she was still an alien. She remained, in the eyes of many, a Matriarch crowned out of desperation for female leadership – a foreigner in a role she had not truly earned. Many on the High Council had become very accepting of her or at least tolerant. Unknown to Sally, others were still resentful that she had been chosen and considered her a puppet of the Hunters close to her.

"May feel hurt," the Healer understated the obvious as she clenched her teeth, knowing that this drug cocktail was a stronger concoction than she had ever taken before. Tusks worriedly chattered as he calculated the immense amount of healing that she was being asked to do – it undoubtedly would take a higher toll on her body than he had ever dared request of it before and would certainly shorten what time she had left. But if it worked, that time would be spent nearly whole, instead of presenting all of Yaut with a weak, dying Matriarch. All she needed to do was live until she could pass her leadership role on to one of her daughters. _Hel, I would wager that the High Council would even allow her to choose her successor – if she would only live long enough to carry out that task! In purity, I have grown a certain fondness for her. I will miss her after she is gone. _

While he monitored her, he recalled her ascent to the highest office in the land. Having an ooman female that had attained a Clan mark by having it conferred, instead of earned, serve as Matriarch had pulled many threads in the solid cloth of the High Council. They had spoken, sometimes heatedly, about anointing the puny ooman as Matriarch – no matter what she had done to assist Ulfr and crew in their mission. The leading High Elder had argued many times on her behalf, saying that an immediate Matriarch was required to preserve the status quo of society. Right now, only he, along with Myn'dill, was privy to the knowledge that her condition was critical and her time was perhaps short. Even Sig'dan and the Consort had not been told the full extent of her failing organs, although Sig'dan knew more than he let on, due to his training as a Healer.

At first, Sig'dan had not been willing to leave her. Only his trust in Myn'dill, along with her encouragement to see his daughter's victory, had allowed him to leave Sally's side to voluntarily assist in the Hunt. He and Aldúlfr, along with nearly all of the other Trainers, were currently on ships loaded with Huntress trios that were making their way to the designated Chiva planets to hunt Mard meat. Only Theron had declined, insisting on making a run to the Blue Planet to see his Melanie, hoping to return in time to help welcome his victorious students back to the Homeworld and adult life. He was optimistic that Signý and Chance would be among them; however, he decided it would be best not to tell his mate that her daughter was out on the most dangerous hunt of her young life. It would only worry Mel, and sour their visit. Besides, there was nothing either of them could do to assist her – even if they had accompanied the Hunt transport. Theron rested in the knowledge that Melanie's daughter was with Arndís and Ulfrde. Together they would find success and make it out of the pyramid. He was confident of that. And Chance? He had taught her all that he knew in the best way he knew – given the short time allowed. The Hunt ahead would bear witness to her skills.

The momentous event of the ships leaving for Chiva was attended by Sally and the entire High Council as well as thousands of Yaut Hunters who assembled at the space port to see the Huntresses off. The future of Yaut rode on the backs of the young females as they left the Homeworld in threes on board their respective Clan Hunt ships accompanied by the encouraging roars of the watchers. Those females that returned would come back as full adults within their Clans - worthy of the respect given to all females and ready to take on a Hunter in the rut. Although it would be some time before there would be enough females for the majority of Hunters to mate with their own kind, the future looked optimistic to the clicking and growling herd of Yautja watching the ships turn to pin-points in the sky.

Signý, Ulfrde and Arndís were the only group made up of bloodlines from the same Clan. Their transport was a state-of-the-art Od'hroer-ir Hunter-class craft proudly piloted by the High Council Guard and Trainer that the Matriarch had nicknamed 'Yang'. He was accompanied by Aldúlfr and Sig'dan. As she watched the, Sally thought that father and son might burst from pride as they marched with their daughters onto the waiting ship. She quickly found tears in her eyes as the door closed and they left the port. _Are you here Ulfr? Do you see your daughters, beautiful and strong! How proud you would be of them this cycle. I am proud of them too, even though I don't see as much of them as I used too. The new pups have arrived! Two of the girls are the children of your Sire. What does that make them to you, seeing as I am their Bearer? Half-sisters, I guess, but out of your own mate! _

Sally suddenly longed for the now distantly remembered, huge arms around her more than she had in a long time. _Your brother has been a good mate for me. I have learned much from him, just as you knew I would. And just as you said, your Sire has protected and guided me. I love them both. Your love and care for me have extended beyond your death through your brother and your father. Thank you, Ulfr! _She bowed her head in silent salute to her dead mate, while all those around her thought she prayed to Paya for the success of her daughters. She did pray often for every one of her children but also knew that they were on their own now. All of their nurturing and training was about to be tested to see if they were worthy of adulthood. One of them would become the next Matriarch and deep in her heart she knew which one it would be. She always had.

* * *

Ulfrde found her sparse quarters, as did her other two sisters, and carefully stowed her belongings. She was not even fazed by the lack of luxury. This was a craft designed to transport those who hunted to the Hunt. It was built and furnished with a practical aesthetic. After she had finished organizing her gear, she went to the viewing deck which promised to provide the best spectacle during the jump. The interstellar portal was barely visible when she found a comfortable place to sit. _The team should share this together, _she decided and signaled for the others to join her. In short order, Signý and Arndís showed up and sat, one on each side of her.

"I have neglected to tell you that I am pleased you were selected our Hunt leader," Arndís said to Ulfrde. "It was a wise choice."

"We will see," Ulfrde replied, deep in her mental preparation for what lie ahead. "I am honored to have been chosen by our Elders. Either of you would have brought benefits to the position," she added with rare diplomacy.

"You are the strongest and most skilled," Signý rumbled back, "I believe it was the best choice."

Ulfrde nodded at her words and returned to looking out into space. The jump door was larger now and appeared as nothing but a dark, black, irregular blob floating among the stars. The ship's fast approach soon had the blob taking up the entire bubble of the viewing port and Aldúlfr announced to them that they were about to make the jump. As she braced to steady herself, Arndís pointed to an edge of the portal where one of the mysterious mechanisms floated and held the dark feature open. It sat gleaming on the edge of the dark, wavering void. The three bowed their heads in respectful submission to the Gods who had created and left these devices for their use.

The females had heard the ancient tales from the earliest writings in the Hall of Antiquities during their early training. It was written that Paya and Cetanu had felt sorrow as they left the world of Yaut, after creating life there. They sorrowed because they would never be able to return and see the result of their creation. The Gods' mission called them to leave and travel on into the deep. Why? No one knew. Some speculated that they were going to other worlds to create life there, too. Some thought that Paya and Cetanu had evolved into another higher plane of existence. The story was told that before leaving, they had created the jump portals as a way to revisit Yaut at some time in the far future. One thing was certain - the doorway creators were completely beyond the Yautja - technically.

Scientific-minded Hunters had tried to approach the jump door mechanisms to examine them, only to find that each was protected by an impenetrable field. No one had ever ventured close to the devices, so no one understood how they worked or what technology was used to create them. The machines were thought to be the handiwork of the Gods who apparently did not allow mere mortals to tamper with their construction. Theories abounded but so far no one, science-minded or tender-of-the-temple, claimed to understand either Cetanu or Paya's purpose.

Each of the females steadied themselves as the ship entered the featureless opening that would ferry them most of the distance to their destination in a few blinks of an eye. As the ship slid inside, they saw, for just one blink, the fore of the vessel stretch out as if to infinity and their own bodies followed suit another blink later. During the third blink they saw the away side of their forms stretched, lingering in the not-space. But then they easily slipped back into space-time during which they witnessed the aft of the transport stretched out behind them. It was a little understood phenomenon and was accompanied by no sensation at all of being stretched out into the universe's widest Yautja. If though she had read about it, Signý dropped her jaws in wonderment that they were able to go through the experience and survive.

The star positions were all different now as they had emerged into another planetary system. They sped by a few gaseous orbiting bodies and then the ship zeroed in on its target. The Huntress team responded and peered eagerly out the viewer looking for a planet - they had not been told of their destination. As they scanned the stars, a small dot zoomed into a brown and green expanse in the viewer. Recognizing it, the ramped-up females shook each other's shoulders and pounded their chests in excitement. For this was the planet called Raun which was famous in lore and history as one of the oldest Chiva sites in existence. Down there, many noble Yautja had earned legitimacy within their Clan.

The Huntresses hastily downloaded detailed data regarding Raun onto their wrist coms. This information included three-dimensional maps of the terrain and the interior of the pyramid. As they hunted, the pyramid map would be hooked into the configuration of the building as its walls moved about during the trial. The changing interior would only be viewable by the Hunters up on the orbiting ship. For the mistresses of Chiva, the use of such a map had to be earned. So they would be dependent on their own memories and basic directional guidance from each wrist computer until a successful kill had been recorded by their mask camera and the mark placed upon their helm. Only then would they be able to activate the living three-dimensional map to assist in guiding them out of the pyramid structure back to the designated pick-up area where the Hunt transport would land and allow them to board. Of course, any number of things could go awry with this plan which is why the transport would stay in orbit until the Huntresses emerged from the temple and were at the landing site.

Besides Raun, there were many scattered planets within Yautja-explored space that had been deemed as Chiva worlds. It was in these places that the Yautja had either imported Eta or claimed an indigenous population as their workforce in creating temples to house hard meat queens. When building a temple, the queen chamber would be excavated first, deep below the surface. Into her prison, a Kiande Amedha egg-layer would be hauled, her deadly maw held closed with d'lex straps and her body held immobile with chains. Once there, she would be chained to her metal throne and quick-frozen to preserve her until the time she was required. Only after she was cold and hard would they dare to remove her muzzle. The chamber would protect and care for her throughout the ages. It would ensure that liquid and nutrition was delivered to her body and waste promptly removed. Only when needed, would she be awakened to perform her perfect function that would prove which Hunters and Huntresses were worthy enough to wear the mark.

The ship orbited the planet while the females efficiently donned body armor, masks and packed themselves with weapons. Only blades, spears and nets were allowed – their energy weapons lay far below and would also have to be earned. Trying to master their excitement, they lined up for final inspection from their Elders. Aldúlfr, Sig'dan and Yang solemnly checked each one for proper preparation. Nothing was amiss, even to their practiced keen eyes. So Aldúlfr nodded to the Huntresses, an indication they could proceed with his blessing as mission Elder. Unable to contain their exhilaration any longer, they jogged to the drop ships and each entered one, sealing the door behind her. After the females had gone down the corridor and were out of sight, the Hunters dropped their adult decorum and scrambled back to the bridge as excited as young pups about to go on their first Hunt. Easing the ship steadily along, Yang expertly commanded the silent-running vessel high over the drop area. "Ready," he stated, after which the Elder commanded, "Now!" to his offspring. A ping sounded as Sig'dan flipped the toggle to release the gravity missiles. The bay doors opening sounded like the clashing of metal weapons to the keyed-up Hunters. They watched closely as the little ships left, one by one, to plunge down to the planet below. They were automatically spaced so as not to collide with each other. Only excellent heat shielding and a small retro drive kept each ship from descending too fast and burning up in the atmosphere. The tiny lights quickly disappeared beneath the atmosphere and were then only followable on the deck's tracking screen. The shipboard Hunters watched in tense silence as all three hit less than a ship's distance of each other in perfect three-point symmetry. Yang blew out the breath he had been holding and they continued to observe as the trio of life-signs regrouped and headed for the pyramid.

"That wasn't too difficult," Signý muttered to herself as she stepped from the passenger pod of her drop ship. It was her first time to ride inside a real one, all previous learning having taken place inside a simulator. She automatically rechecked her gear to insure that none of it had been damaged from the shock of landing. Then she glanced back at her slightly angled craft, its nose deeply buried in the planet's soil. _It is just our team and this place now. I wonder what other worlds the rest of my sisters have drawn to Chiva upon? Great Paya be with us! _She moved quickly to where Ulfrde waited, tapping a toe talon, for her and Arndís to check in. After each reported that their equipment was sound and that they were ready, Ulfrde consulted her com and with a grunt, began to lead the team in the direction of the pyramidal temple. Each Huntress clicked a small control on her wrist causing the ships behind them to crumple into nothingness. No trace of their technology could be left behind.

They had landed in a small valley that lay between the gentled ridges of an ancient mountain range. The dale was green with odd plants and a narrow stream flowed through it, giving life to many strange plants and an even stranger variety of creatures. The females had overviewed this planet, along with many others, in order to learn the basics of how to survive here. Any data they lacked from study could be supplemented by the data store now in each wrist com. As it was only a short hike up to the base of one of the mountains, it provided them with the pre-hunt opportunity to relax a bit before they reached the path to the pyramid which could be accessed via a small opening in the rocks.

As they traveled, Arndís recalled some of the facts about this place gained during her study of the Chiva planets and thought, _we are fortunate to be upon this world during a phase of warmth. I would not relish scaling down an ice tunnel to get to the temple! Suit mesh is helpful, but in that kind of cold? Now, just what kind of creatures did the text say lived here? _She looked around to see if she could spot any of the strange animals she had read about that maintained a permanent stalk into the ground like a plant. Her search was rewarded as they walked around a large group of the immobile creatures. Each one appeared as a fist-sized brownish-green smooth stone laying on the surface. Arndís gently touched one with the tip of a talon and grinned as it flexed away from her touch. A small growl from grimly serious Ulfrde brought her attention back to the group. _I know you take your leadership role seriously, and I am pleased that you do. But honestly, we aren't even inside the pyramid! _

The three soon came to the base of the mountain and began the climb following a natural pathway. They went single file now along the narrow trail and Signý took her turn bringing up the rear. She had started to sweat a little from the exertion and was attracting some tiny flying things that would land and try to sop up the moisture from her skin. She swatted and waved them away, grateful that they did not bite and wished them forward to annoy her sisters.

The path grew steeper and fainter until Ulfrde had to stop and consult her wrist to assure herself that they were on the correct trajectory. The walk eventually turned into scaling the nearly vertical face. It was an easy ascent for the females who had begun climbing the walls of their dwelling almost as soon as they could walk. Before long, they stood at the narrow gap between the rocks that would allow them to access the hidden valley below. With growing impatience they jogged through the gap and found themselves on a ledge looking over a narrow u-shaped valley which had been created eons ago by retreating glaciers. A shining white pyramid glistened below and invited the team to its entrance. With low growls betraying their excitement, the Huntresses started down the slope.

It was horrible footing, all loose soil, born up by unstable rock and gravel. The females quickly found that the simplest way to descend was to 'surf' the landslide that started when they tried to walk down it. Using their tough sandals, and nearly as tough feet, they rode the moving landslide of dirt and rock down to the valley below, sending a huge plume of dust into the air along with a few rumbled whoops of pleasure.

* * *

Far above, the Hunters sat at a table with a com in the middle which showed the terrain and the females every move. Aldúlfr clacked his tusks at the dust storm and the vision of three exuberant females riding their feet down to the temple. "And what if one of you misjudged and broke your leg?" he growled to the team who could not hear him. "A fine start to your Chiva that would be!"

* * *

Finally at the bottom, Ulfrde resumed her serious Hunt Leader stance and ordered the others to accompany her to the pyramid. A faint trail was still visible on a line that soon merged with the undergrowth. It led the trio directly to the base of the temple where, for a moment, they stood in awe. The stone of this ancient pediment was perfectly preserved! Every rock was in perfect place – nothing appeared shifted or even weathered!

Curious Arndís consulted her com and reported, "There is a population of creatures here who revere us. They care for the temple and have provided the sacrifice inside for our Hunt."

"Good," grunted Ulfrde. "Let us go."

Together they jogged the many small steps up the pyramid base taking three at a time. Reaching the temple entrance plateau, they discovered a series of statues depicting regal Hunters holding weapons, ready to strike.

"Don't gawk at them like you've never been on a Hunt before," grumbled Ulfrde as they walked inside the huge stone portal. She knew they were being watched from the ship. As she spoke, Signý felt the click of a paver underneath a foot.

"The egg-layer is being revived," she reported excitedly to her sisters. "You both owe me!" They nodded in recognition of her win of the bet regarding who would be the one to trigger the event leading to the eggs that would implant the waiting hosts.

The stood just inside the cool, dark entry hall for a few moments and adjusted their masks to see any heat within the blackness. Immense engravings covered every wall and were visible to some of the spectrums that the masks automatically flipped through periodically. Ulfrde consulted her map to navigate down to the level where the energy weapons were hidden. That was their first task – get to the weapons. Taking down Hard Meat would be much easier when armed with casters. The kill could be done with hand-held weaponry, but the risk of getting acid splatter was much greater. However attractive the Hunters might consider the resulting scars, the future Bearers of pups were much more cautious about putting vulnerable body parts in danger. Survival and victory in the Chiva would allow them to breed, but winning at the cost of damaged child-bearing organs would be a hollow victory indeed.

* * *

High overhead, the transport ship had been tucked into a stationary orbit directly above the temple to allow the best viewing of the Hunt. The three Trainers watched intently as their students walked into the temple. Suddenly, Sig'dan's heavy hand smacked down on the table accompanied by a clickish chortle as his offspring was the one to trigger the thawing and egg-laying of the hard meat queen with her footfall. Stacks of trade currency were shoved in his direction by Aldúlfr and Yang even as they made another wager as to who would take first trophy.

The Elder Arbitrator would be pleased whatever the outcome as all the Huntresses were of his issue – well, indirectly at least. In fact, he was as proud of all of them as if he had seeded them directly from his own loins! The gambling Hunters continued to watch the females trek through the corridors on their way to the energy weapons cache. "Good work, Ulfrde," the Elder muttered, "Straight and true…lead them on."

* * *

It had been long since the temple corridors had witnessed a Hunt. Yet they were dust-free which Arndís found odd. Why would the workers here maintain the inside so well for them? What hold did they have on the native slaves that would cause them to not only yield up willing sacrifices, but also see to the cleanliness inside as though it were a home? She shook her wandering thoughts from her head and concentrated on being aware of her surroundings. _Quit being stupid, Arndís! This is not a time to study the alien culture here! _She repeated a mantra from her training, _lose your focus lose your life._

They made yet another turn and this time had to crouch sideways to squeeze through the triangular hallway. As they crab-walked the passage a distant keening was heard which caused all three to stop. "What was that?" Signý voiced at Ulfrde as she checked her com. The visualizer zeroed in on the sacrificial room where the egg contents had just hatched and implanted the waiting offerings.

"It was our Hunt preparing to begin," answered Ulfrde, her voice very matter-of-fact as she was once again side-stepping to reach the end of the claustrophobic span. Finally making the opening, they made a small jump down into a much larger rectangular room that seemed barren. After passing all the statues, carvings and mosaics it was strange to find a space void of any décor. "Spread out," ordered Ulfrde, "Check every stone. Our weapons are somewhere in this room."

In every temple sacred to Chiva, there is a lone room that reflects the culture of the species that built it. It is always inside this room that the energy weapons are hidden. Part of the requirement to earn the right to use them is to find them. Sometimes the hiding place is obvious and only requires knowledge of some code representative of the indigenous culture to open a lock. In some temples, locating the hiding place within the room is the challenge.

"Ulfrde, Signý," Arndís spoke, "I recall nothing about this culture that would justify the plainness of this room. Do either of you?"

Signý replied, "My recollection is that these creatures appreciate simplicity, perhaps the lack of decoration reflects that?"

Ulfrde pulled up earlier images of the room from previous Hunts. They stared in silence at the picture of a room that contained artful pinkish sculptures that seemed to grow in undulations from the walls and ceiling. "What does this mean?" Arndís asked.

"A problem," was her sister's terse reply. "Find the weapons, now!" she growled at them and the three began to methodically search the room at a rapid pace. Every wall was scanned through all visor settings, tapped and pressed while high in orbit the monitoring Elders were experiencing great anxiety.

* * *

"This room has been altered!" exploded Yang, comparing it to previous images. "By whom? For what purpose?"

"I will hunt them down and kill them!" Adulfr echoed the pilot's outrage.

Only Sig'dan kept his emotions in check. Clear thinking would best serve his purpose right now, although he was as anxious for the success of the females as were his Mission Brothers. "The most logical answer is that the creatures who serve us here did this," he stated. "I do not know why. Perhaps it reflects a significant change in their culture. We have not held a Chiva here for perhaps a thousand of their long cycles. We do not know how they have evolved in that time!"

"Then let us go down and find out," growled the Elder. "Yang, take us to a landing near the drop site. We will not interfere in the Chiva, but we will find out the meaning of the barren room!"

* * *

Meanwhile, inside the weapons room of the pyramid, the females had completed examining the floor and now scaled the walls, tapping the wall stones all the way to the top in their search for the needed arsenal. Every moment was precious but the search required that they try every component of the walls. They even strained their arms to try and reach many places on the ceiling. Finally, every accessible stone had been prodded and no weapons were to be found. With sore shoulders, they regrouped on the floor and discussed the situation.

"Is there something we've not thought of?" questioned Arndís. "Perhaps there is yet some way to find a key that will open the weapons cache. We need to think differently!"

"We have left nothing undone," Ulfrde's angry rumble replied. "There are no weapons here!"

"Have they been taken?" Arndís wondered aloud, "I remember reading of a situation on the Blue Planet where the weapons vault was discovered by ooman prey and the code used to open it. The oomans did not know what they had found but took it anyway. Only a single Hunter was left by the Hard Meat to take his weapon back from the lone ooman who also survived. In a strange act of Paya, he was killed on this Hunt by the Queen."

"Nothing like that has happened here!" Ulfrde announced. "Not only would my com have alerted me to anyone else's presence, the building should have begun to change configuration had the weapons been removed. I do not understand, but we must now prepare to continue the Hunt with the weapons we packed in. Cloak, spread out and follow me. We search for heat signatures!" The shearing sound of deadly wrist blades extending like metal claws was the only sound of preparation. Ulfrde resumed point and determinedly led the group, turning her head this way and that as she crept down the hallway seeking prey. The other two followed her on full alert.

Each of the females felt the keenness of this moment. It was them against the ancient quarry – the prey selected long ago as the best prover of adulthood. And they would hunt it as their ForeSires of several generations ago had with only the strength of their arm wielded blades - before the invention of the castors that could more safely slay serpents at a distance.

Ulfrde relished the idea. She would truly prove her worth as a Huntress and member of her Clan. How many females of old could have said they took their Chiva trophy with only a blade? She vowed not to use her wrist com again, but to taste the air and track down the hard meat by scent alone – just as the ancients had! It was harder to find the prey that way. _This hunt will last longer! _A charge of excitement ran up her spine from the base followed by a surreal clarity. _This is my heritage…what I was born to do._ She silently sampled the still air in the passage_. _

In a chamber not far from the Hunt team, seven slabs supported the now cold carcasses of the larval wombs of newly hatched hard meats. The bodies were empty of all cavity organs and blood, as these soft parts had served to nourish and grow the young sucklings. The immature Hard Meats had already molted and emerged fully grown with shining slick exoskeletons, starving for more succulent flesh and fully equipped to fight. Each carried the same instinctive set of instructions in its brain: feed, capture live creatures and then cocoon them to spawn more of your sisters, and obey your queen. Possessing little will of their own, only enough brain power to strategize to follow their prime directives, the hungry hive horrors set out to accomplish their purpose.

* * *

The Hunt ship sat down near the depressions left from the now imploded drop cylinders that had transported the Chiva team to the surface. There was no sign of any activity within scanning distance but the careful crew still disembarked fully armored and cloaked. They located the pathway that led to the nearest site where the native Eta prey, called Za-T'jau by the Hunters, lived within mud mounds inside a walled city. They had scanned the depths of the city before dropping out of orbit and detected nothing unusual there, only the regular movements of the inhabitants as they went about their cycle. Their number had increased and the walled area had enlarged, but that was expected behavior in a successful culture.

These aliens were a simple Matriarchal society not completely dissimilar to the Yautja. While not possessing a High Council, Elders were respected and one functioned as sole ruler of the city. She was protected at all costs, obeyed without question and it was her offspring alone that repopulated the city from time to time. Nearly all the populace was female. A few males were born in infrequently to replenish the supply of fertility carried by the Matriarch which would serve her for a lengthy time in the creation process.

The Za-T'jau had no fields on the surface of the planet. Instead, they tunneled beneath the surface toiling in fungal gardens that they cultivated there. The entire species seemed to survive by eating only the flesh of the pink mold they grew on a mash of green plants obtained from the surface. Armies of workers toiled at harvesting plants from the surface, then carried them to the spot where they were pulverized into a thick green mucous that was then used to coat the walls of rooms dug sporadically along the tunnels. The now fertilized beds were ready for the implantation of small plugs of starter fungus which would quickly grow and cover the walls. Some of the workers spent their entire lives underground, tending the gardens and harvesting the grown crops for consumption. On and below the surface, it looked as if little had changed over the past millennium.

The invisible Hunters waited near the city entrance monitoring the population's activities. All that was witnessed was the inevitable stream of workers coming from their job of gathering with large baskets of green foliage balanced upon their backs. Comparable streams of workers passed them heading out to the wilds to go forage. Nothing about the city or its inhabitants was different when compared to pictures, scans or reports from the last Yautja visit. Nothing was witnessed which indicated the reason for the naked weaponry room in the pyramid.

While Yang and Aldúlfr had been watching the aliens and monitoring their activities, Sig'dan had been running scans of the city as well as targeting a few of its inhabitants for study. The primitive individuals he tested bore no physical differences from their ancestors. They came perhaps up to a Hunter's waist and were covered with a very smooth, hard, brown outer casing. The creatures scuttled along the ground on six thick and hearty legs. The hard external skeleton gave them formidable strength which they used in harvesting, tunneling and building their city. Unaggressive unless attacked, they were nevertheless satisfactorily formidable when defending their metropolis. In addition to strength, they each had a massive set of external serrated jaw-like pincers that were used for moving objects and defense. In spite of an honorably brave resistance they had been easy subjects to conquer and put to work as they were bright enough to be taught pyramid construction and maintenance, yet simple enough to be ruled. They treated the Hunters with great respect, jumped to obey any commands and offered willing, robust subjects to the Sacrificial Hall of the temple for each Chiva - an ideal Eta prey in the mind of many.

The Hard Meats they produced were shiny and black with elongated heads, per the norm. But like their hosts, they carried large protruding jaws from the side of their mouths from which the deadly inner jaws could spear out to impale a victim. Also like their hosts, they ran on six limbs and could climb shear surfaces with ease. Physically tough, difficult to kill, and with tails and acid blood like their Bearer, they made the finest of trophies.

In a burst of insight, Sig'dan aimed his scanner at the ground right in front of them and was surprised at what he found. He studied it for a few moments and then quietly signaled Aldúlfr, who moved from his position to come and see. There on the viewer was a tunnel running directly beneath them that went straight beneath the main gate. Inside it, workers were steadily streaming from the city, but these Za-T'jau carried no baskets. Sig'dan turned and directed the scanner as he followed the away portion of the tunnel.

"It goes in the direction of the pyramid!" Aldúlfr whispered. "These are not laborers sent out to glean leaves. They march as Warriors on their way to attack. Our ship and possibly even our females may be at risk!" The Hunters sprang into a dead run to reach their transport. That many Za-T'jau could quickly create a sinkhole large enough to engulf their ship.

* * *

Still searching for Hard Meat, the females stalked the temple passages in the dark. Ulfrde raised her hand to signal a halt even as a scratching sound perked her sensitive hearing. Huffing air onto the roof of her mouth she tasted the distinctive sharp flavor of Hard Meat. The three waited as her vision ran through all modes, revealing that there was nothing to see in any frequency. Still she waited and then the soft scratching came again. "Hear that?" she tapped in tusk code to her sisters.

"Sei," they both responded.

"From above," tapped Arndís, "I scent them!"

They moved along in silent slow motion, searching above for the slightest sign. Ulfrde stopped them again as she pointed to an empty space in the ceiling. If there was a Hard Meat lodged in there, it was up high enough so that it could not be seen, but its acidic scent gave it away. Signý raised her taloned hand and pointed to the floor beneath the opening. Lying there was a single drop of slightly warm Hard Meat drool – surely the most disturbing substance in existence.

"I will bait," signaled Arndís, while pointing to Ulfrde, "Take trophy." Fully entrusting her life to the others and offering the honor of first kill to her Bloodline sister, she calmly walked under the opening. As her sister walked, Ulfrde dared not snap open the throwing blade as the clinking would alert the prey. Instead, she steadied her bladed wrist and prepared to deliver incoming death to any Hard Meat intent upon feasting upon her beloved sister. Signý too prepared. She readied her wrist to back up her bulkier sibling should her plan go astray and kept watch back down the corridor.

Arndís had to consciously keep breathing as the opening floated above her head. Time seemed to stop and she was aware of her legs preparing to take another step, her sisters poised to strike behind her and a slight scrabbling overhead. She too, caught the acrid pungency that meant prey as it wafted down the air vent above. Arndís was about to clear the opening when, with a piercing screech, the black terror fell upon her just as Ulfrde's blades caught it mid-skull and neatly sliced a section from it. Arndís jumped and twisted out of the thing's grasp trying to avoid the shower of blood pumping from the vessels still trying to feed the grotesque head. She nearly made it.

A small skeletal black hand was clenched upon one of her locks and the death grip held on during her gymnastic. This created a centrifuge effect which sprayed a mono-color rainbow of acid blood droplets high up into the air. Ulfrde spun away from the penetrating rainfall and Signý followed her lead. Arndís only felt the claws grip at her and failed to realize the danger she had thrown high over herself.

"Arndís, duck!" roared Ulfrde and her sister immediately crunched her body, face down, into the smallest target possible as the blood rain etched into her back. The smoke of burning armor and flesh steamed into the air as the Huntress bellowed in surprise and pain. Signý was already opening her med kit and running toward Arndís with a handful of medication to neutralize the acid and thwart its passage through her body. After cutting through the armor with a swift blade, she glopped the salve onto the bloody holes in her Hunt sister's back and spread it around. Ensuring that all areas had been covered, she pushed Arndís onto her side, commanding, "Ulfrde, field medicine!"

Ulfrde was ahead of her, pulling out and spreading the burner. She hurriedly placed the blue substance on it and it immediately melted into a puddle which she pulled up into a syringe and passed to Signý. Without a word, Signý plunged the needle in between the ribs and administered the entire dose. Arndís responded with a whole body spasm and a loud roar. _The prey now knows our location, _thought Ulfrde as she waited for her sister to recover and quickly claimed the tail blade and a few fingers of her kill. _I will mark myself later, now we must move!_

"We go!" she barked and began jogging down the corridor. The others followed, Arndís still breathing heavy from pain even as the medication healed her. She now carried her armaments slung over her shoulders and around her neck, her upper armor having been ruined in the haste to save her life. _My first scars are from Chiva! _she realized and a shiver of excitement ran through her even as all her senses clicked into focus for the Hunt. A little acid blood scald was not going to hinder a Yautja Huntress.

* * *

Outside the pyramid, three Hunters were running as fast as possible toward their ship, their heavy footfalls shaking the ceiling of the creatures in the tunnel below them. As if they were a single being, the creatures came to an abrupt stop. Each of them seemed frozen in place and stayed that way for a few moments. As the Za-T'jau turned to statues, the Hunters reached their ship. Running up the gangplank the pilot, Yang, slid into his seat.

"GO!" yelled Aldúlfr as he hit the control to close the doorway. He and Sig'dan grabbed the nearest stationary objects while Yang did an emergency start-up and punched a hole in the atmosphere, getting the vehicle out of harms way. The Hunters grunted and held on as the gravity force tried to drive them into the ship's back wall. The transport screamed in its nearly vertical climb, then leveled out when they reached orbit. Safely in a holding pattern over the pyramid, Sig'dan relaxed his death grip on the rail in front of him. He noticed the places where his closed talons had scraped scars into the metal, then went to dutifully complete his scan of the tunnel. He did so quickly and reported to Aldúlfr.

"My Elder, the tunnel continues straight to the temple and then banks down steeply. It merges directly with the Chamber of the Hard Meat Queen!"

"Are the Za-T'jau entering the Chamber?" Aldúlfr asked.

"Sei! They enter and then some return, but most are assembling in the lower parts of the pyramid!"

"C'jit! Take us back down! Find another place to land nearer the temple!"

Yang, who had been listening to the exchange, had already been searching for a suitable landing site. Having located one adjacent to the pyramid, he now plunged the ship as though it were a drop tube down to the location, only smoothing out the landing a little in his haste to assist the females. Ignoring commenting on the rough landing, the three recloaked and left the transport, running for the pyramid entrance. Inside the temple, their communication devices were of no use. There was no way to contact and warn the females of impending attack. They would have to search and find the girls using the wrist com maps.

Just inside the doorway, Aldúlfr's wrist snapped up an image of the temple. The females were in a hallway two stories below them. A talon tap showed him the quickest route there, and they took off together at a dead run, scanning for Hard Meats and Za-T'jau as they ran. There was not even time to pray to Paya, only react, in their effort to retrieve the priceless females.

As the Hunters were searching for them, the females were clustered behind a stone statue of Cetanu. They had quickly ducked behind it upon spying a bevy of heat signatures up ahead. _More Hard Meat! _Ulfrde's spine tingled again with anticipation but she ordered the group behind the effigy in order to strategize. As Leader it was her responsibility to ensure that all had a fair shot at a trophy. Clicking in Hunt code, she laid out the plan to the others who clicked back their understanding. Then the three silently crept out from their concealment and spread apart as they approached their quarry.

Two Hard Meats were prowling the room which was filled with statues of Hunters and prey. Sprouted as living stones from the floor, the rocks had been carved and fashioned where they stood to create a marvelous scene portraying a vicious battle between Hunters and hunted. An aloof Cetanu oversaw the scene.

Ulfrde again caught their acidic scent. Neither pleasant nor unpleasant, it carried the sterile tang of a hard-bodied creature that produced no sweat, nor stench-emitting glands, but carried an ocean of acid within its body. She saw and zeroed in on the Hard Meat pair working in tandem as they walked around either side of a statue at the same time in order to surprise anything that might be there. Nodding to Arndís and Signý, she fell in behind her sisters. She had already had her turn at a trophy and, although the skull had been destroyed, she had collected some respectable items. Her sisters snuck up on the unsuspecting aliens even as they began to walk around another of the statues.

The females opened their flying blades with a tiny shearing sound and watched as both Hard Meats eyeless heads went up in the air and they searched around for any trace of danger or opportunity. The whirling blades flew from the hands of their mistresses and made nearly invisible slices through the craning necks of the twin spawn of darkness. Both creatures stopped still for a moment and then the unbalanced heads toppled to the floor followed by the bodies. The victorious females would have howled their victory except that there were still more prey in the area. Instead, they set upon the bodies to collect trophies, including the highly prized skulls. There was no time to clean anything, but they all three took a moment to mark their helms and foreheads with the sacred symbol of their Clan. Eyes glistening with pride, they masked back up, secured their booty and headed for the next encounter. The troop knew that there were three Hard-Meats down, and as long as none of the three of them were cocooned – only five to go. They must all be taken and none must be allowed to escape the containment of the temple – even at the cost of their own lives.

Ulfrde snapped her wrist and clicked in the command informing the computer that the three of them had been successfully marked. In response, a new three-dimensional map of the temple sprung up, showing the heat signatures of their team as well as three unexpected signatures of the Hunters running through the hallway towards them. Nearby, the females could see an army of the native prey creatures as they marched into the Queen's Chamber and set to work. They were carrying her eggs away as fast as she could lay them and lying down beside each one – a willing sacrifice to an emerging larva. Ulfrde moved the picture farther into the structure to find hundreds of the creatures calmly stretched out beside eggs that had not yet opened.

"Come!" she roared to the others. All thoughts of collecting any more trophies vanished as the females sprinted towards the Hunters. The only solution was to implode the temple, taking all the Hard Meats and their Queen with them. Six Yautja, no matter how skilled, could not hold off that many Kiande Amedha.

Aldúlfr brought his Hunters to a halt as he caught sight of the Huntresses rushing towards him. With satisfaction, he quickly noted the Clan marks upon each of their masks and the trophies they carried. He also saw that Ulfrde carried no Hard Meat skull but that mattered little right now. Without any conversation, the females fell in with the Hunters and all began arming their bombs. "When I call your name, drop your bomb as we run," the Elder growled out. Then they took off for the entrance.

The young Huntresses had to work hard to keep up with the running Hunters. At a juncture in the hallways, the Elder shouted out, "Signý!" She immediately pitched her triggered device and ran on. At another juncture, the name, "Arndís!" was roared and she obediently dropped her explosive. They continued their dash to the exit with each member dropping an active bomb as they heard their name. Breathing heavily from excitement and exhertion, they neared the main hallway where they were met by the remaining mature Hard Meats.

"They stall us! Castors! Other's behind!" the mission Elder growled. The castorless females obediently positioned themselves behind the three males who armed their shoulder cannons and fired while the Huntresses drew their blades and prepared to defend the rear. Pieces of Hard Meat blasted into the air and hailed onto the fore part of the room. Three of the prey had vanished into blast bits while the other two had taken to the ceiling. Quickly the wily creatures crawled overhead, intent on dropping down behind the shooting Hunters. There plan was spoiled when they were detected by the sharp eyes of Ulfrde who pointed up with her blades, growling, "Mine!"

The Hard Meat immediately dropped down as she jumped away from them and then, before they could even move, had pierced one of the creatures in the mid-section. It screeched, slashing its deadly tail around trying to reach the Huntress. With her other hand, Ulfrde snapped open her flying blades and loosed them to remove the searching tail. Now the creature slashed blood through the air at her even as it gave a final spasm and died. The blood hit her shoulder and mask, smoking into both. She tossed the kill away from her and ripped off the mask as well as the shoulder armor. Both pieces were ruined but had served well in protecting her from injury.

"Hurry," commanded Aldúlfr as Ulfrde moved in to cut the skull from the body. Suddenly all heard the skreeing cries of a myriad of Hard Meat being born. The team took off and Ulfrde slung her netted trophy over her shoulder even as she ran. In the meantime, the last mature Hard Meat had disappeared. Hopefully it had gone back deeper into the pyramid where it would receive a warm welcome.

The team streamed out of the temple and ran down the stairs. They hit the ground still at a dead run and darted towards the reving-up ship. The destruction of six bombs going off simultaneously would not only destroy the temple but would take the entire valley with it. Aldúlfr was thorough. Inside the craft they all sought handholds as Yang, once again, was about to blast them through the atmosphere without any pre-check. He had spied them as they sprinted toward him and started the launch procedure.

The crew assumed a balanced stance and hung on to whatever was nearby as the pilot punched it. They had only left the ground when they felt and heard the jarring explosion from deep underground. The transport rattled as though seized by a giant invisible tremoring hand. Yang rerouted all power, including life support, to the engine and the streamlined ship tore through the air even as the bluish balloon of the detonated charges tailed it into space.

"Well done!" Aldúlfr boomed, congratulating everyone on their success. "Head for home," he then commanded Yang, who was relieved to be alive to receive the order. The females were clapped on the shoulders by the Elder and Sig'dan so many times they had begun to bruise. Beyond pleased by all the positive attention, the now adult females beamed at each other and their Trainers. Eventually, as the growls of praise died down, they retreated to their quarters to properly clean their trophies and prepare for arrival on the Homeworld. With their recognition by the High Elders and the Matriarch as Blooded, their attention would quickly turn to mating.

* * *

Even before she bathed, Ulfrde set to vacuuming the flesh from her trophy, the tail blade base and the fingers. Only when they had been completely cleaned would she submit herself to the shower. Too keyed up for a soak, she scrubbed herself thoroughly and then dried. Returning naked to her trophies, she began polishing the skull with enthusiasm as she thought. _When will be the best time to approach him? I know that I should wait and find out who the Council has assigned to me and then move to claim him. I'm certain they have matched someone on the High Council with me. That is an acceptable match, but not who I want. I have watched him for so long! And hidden my need of him until my ache has nearly betrayed me! Not even HE suspects – I am sure of it! What if one of the others claims him! Or has been matched up with him? _

The Huntress found her fingers gripping the treasured skull hard enough to nearly put a fracture in it. She eased off worriedly as she realized what she was doing. She had not thought of the possibility of anyone else claiming the right to rut him this season. It made her set her tusks in hard jealous anger. _Pauk the High Council! I will make my OWN choice! _Throwing a skin over one shoulder, she arranged it to hang over her most private areas. _Should I contact, Ka first and inform her of my choice? _

* * *

In the ship's bath, Arndís and Signý had commandeered the pool. The Hunters would have to be content with a shower. In this delicate time of the nearing rut, no Hunter, not even family, would intrude on their privacy. "So, Signý," Arndís began, "who do you think they have chosen for you?"

Her sibling reflected upon the water's surface for a few moments. "May I burden you with my secret?" she answered.

Arndís considered. To share another's secret was to vow to never tell anyone. It could be a burden indeed. But whatever secret her sister possessed regarding the answer to the question she had posed, she really wanted to know it. "Sei, I will share in the keeping of your secret," she agreed.

"It will not be a secret for long," Signý smiled with her upper mandibles. "I do not care who the High Council has chosen for me. No other can be as noble, as honorable, as brave, and frankly as completely attractive as the Hunter I have chosen for myself! Do

you hear me? I HAVE CHOSEN HIM!"

"I understand," Arndís surprised her by agreeing completely. "You have done as our females have always done – you have made your own choice. I believe the High Council and yes, even our Bearer, have overstepped their authority in choosing mates for us. The privilege, no the RIGHT, of choice should be ours as it has always been for Yautja females!"

"You understand!" said Signý, in amazement.

"Sei, now tell me! Who is your choice?"

Signý looked nervous now and began to make small talk to try and steer the conversation in another direction. Arndís would not let her, "Tell me! I demand to know!"

"Why is it so important to you?" Signý questioned.

"I have chosen for myself also and I want to make sure that you have not chosen the same Hunter!" Arndís growled competitively.

"As if that would matter! You would kick the c'jit out of me to win your intended rut, would you not?"

"Of course I would fight you for him. But you belittle your own abilities, Hunt Sister. You would be a worthy opponent!" Arndís suddenly went from defensive to friendly and gave her sister a shoulder clasp. "So tell me. Who do you desire?"

Signý knew that Arndís would not give up until she told her. "Myn'dill," she answered plainly. "And your choice?"

"The High Council Leader." Arndís gave Signý a wry grin.

"Well, nothing like aiming high!"

"I only hope he finds me worthy," Arndís replied.

"A…Arndís, we are the only mates in town. He'll find you worthy," Signý chortled high and long. "Do you think Ulfrde has chosen for herself also?"

"I don't know, she's not spoken of it to me. But it would be like Ulfrde to make her own path. We'll know soon enough."

"Do you think we should inform our Bearer?"

"It would be very dishonorable not to tell her and the High Council." Arndís got up, waded from the pool and headed for the dryer.

"Where are you going?" shouted Signý.

"To contact home."

* * *

A well-rejuvenated Sally approached the High Council meeting room with a deep knit in her brow. They stood as she entered and she nodded to recognize them. Neither Theron nor Sig'dan was available to translate. She would have to try and get this message across with the help of the High Council Leader, who's English was passable. Several on the High Council spoke some English now. She took tall and strong, then taking hold of the voice amplifier, she began, "Honorable Elders of the High Council, I have been contacted today and informed that the females Ulfrde, Arndís and Signý have all successfully completed Chiva. I am still waiting to hear from the other teams. More information was also given to me directly by the females themselves. In spite of our best plans for them, they have decided to choose their own mates.

A growing rumble went up from the assemblage of High Elders. Then the Leader stood to address her, "Honorable Matriarch, who have they chosen?"

"Well…uh…Honorable High Elder, I did not ask. I figured it was their right to inform the Hunters first before anyone else knew about it."

The council's tusks were tapping furiously in Hunt Code to each other. Some were outraged that their authority had been overridden, others found it quite funny, and some seemed dismayed. The usually quiet Tol'lan High Elder stood waiting to speak and was recognized by the Leader and Sally. He began and was translated by the Leader, "I am curious, Honorable Elder, Honorable Matriarch. Did they give justification for their behavior?"

Sally answered him, "In fact, Honorable Elder of the Tol'lan, they did. They spoke of our tradition of treating females with respect and also of the right of all females previous to this generation to choose their own mate for themselves. If I may say so, I found myself in complete agreement with them. It was wrong of me to interfere in their selection process. They should be allowed to choose for themselves."

"So," the Tol'lan continued, "You choose preserving their rights as females over satisfying the lusts of the High Council?" The other members widened their jaws at him. He merely grinned with one side of his face.

Sally answered carefully, "The mates from the High Council were chosen with great care and with the goal of obtaining the strongest, most talented pups. No other consideration was spoken of."

"But you only looked within the High Council for mates. Is that correct?" The Tol'lan was not going to drop this gracefully.

"Sei. My understanding is that the High Council consists of the finest males from the Clans. Since females desire the very best Sires for their pups, we did not consider that this would be an issue."

"In one-hundred percent Yautja females, it wouldn't," he retorted, then sat down, satisfied his point had been made. The Council members turned to each other, exchanging clicks and growls. Even the Leader joined the argument. Sally stood, helpless to know what was going on.

Finally, the Leader turned back to her, "We are discussing the apparent fact that the behavior of the new females is probably due to ooman weakness in their genetics."

Sally's heart dropped into her toes. _If the girls are considered weak, will they be killed? Turned into Aseigan or Eta? In spite of their Chiva? What can I say to defend them? _  
Her panic drove her to boldness, "Honorable High Elders, is the fact that they chose their own mates a human trait? Throughout Yautja history females have always been the ones to decide – it has never been the males. True, competing Hunters might spar over a mate, but the initial choice has always been hers. If you do not approve of the Hunters the females have chosen, then follow our tradition and challenge them for the right to breed. Has not this always been our way?" _Or has your own need to rut blinded you to the truth and you seek to label what they have done as an 'ooman weakness'! _She dared not utter the words that were in her mind, but waited while the Elders again spoke among themselves.

As the Elders argued, another Hunt ship was approaching a Chiva planet.


	7. Chapter Six: Web of Choices

**Chapter Six: Web of Choices**

"What is the point of having free will if one cannot occasionally spit in the eye of destiny?" ― Jim Butcher, _White Night_

The Blooded Huntress Ulfrde carefully read the reports with concern in her eyes. As Leader of the Chiva Hunt, it was her final responsibility to make certain that all of the Hard-Meats had been destroyed. If a single one had been left alive it would wreak havoc upon the Chiva planet's biosystem. Of course, she realized that the prey creatures' society had already been compromised by their unexpected turn of allegiance to the Kiande Amedha Queen. This surprising behavior would be sweet meat for the scientists of Yaut and they would be unhappy that so little evidence had been left for them to sift through.

Ulfrde gave the equivalent of a frown as she once more peered at the reports with a mistrustful feeling rolling up from her gut. There was not a single sign of any Kiande Amedha life on the planet – anywhere. The entire valley had been destroyed by the explosives of the Yautja which had also wiped out the entire colony of the misguided prey creatures. Except for the valley, the planet was preserved as a Chiva site where a new temple could be built and a new city of the ever-abundant six-legged creatures pressed into servitude. In spite of the need for the ship's crew to join them on the planet's surface and then assist in the destruction of the temple, this would be considered a successful mission by the High Council.

The newly marked Huntress reflected that indeed, it had been a successful Chiva. She and her sisters had honorably taken prey and marked themselves. Further securing their fame, they had done it without energy weapons. Their status as desirable females was more than secured. But Ulfrde's instincts still nagged at her and she didn't know why. If only they had been able to kill the remaining Hard Meat and not let it escape back into the pyramid. Then she might have felt more satisfied that she had completed their task. She knew that the only mission requirements were to Chiva and to ensure the death of all the Hard Meats. Right now, the ships scanners once again confirmed for her that there were no Hard Meats left – even their Queen had been destroyed in the fiery explosions. _That last one __**must**__ have retreated to inside the temple. So what is truly bothering me, _she questioned herself. _Perhaps this is my way of avoiding thinking about my prearranged pairing for the rut. _

With disgust, she felt her temper rise, remembering her previous conversation with her Bearer over that subject. They had argued for the first time ever. In the end her mother had actually sympathized with her view. For Ulfrde, the melding of the victory attained by putting forth her own mind and the shame of having confronted her mother, stirred a confusing sauce with which to prepare for returning home to celebrate and lure her waiting mate. Was there really a need to address the roaring crowd that would welcome them back to Yaut? The Huntress did not need the congratulations and recognition of others. She understood her achievement. Now, her desires were solidifying into one final goal – to find, not her arranged mate, but her desired mate and challenge him. The thought made lust bloom deep within her and began to put any unsatisfied thoughts regarding the Chiva Hunt into the background.

She closed her eyes and pictured his familiar form. He was quite large for a Hunter his age and it made him appear more senior than he actually was. Ulfrde had studied his records and knew he was approximately mid-way through his expected life span. She also knew of his many honorable achievements. While she understood that the High Council had selected one of its own for her, and that he was a greatly honored High Council Elder and would be most desirable, she also knew her own mind. Although a fixture of her daily life from birth, she had only really noticed him as 'her Hunter' some time after he appeared on the training grounds to instruct her and her sisters.

It had been a difficult class for her at first – being questioned down to the last detail about a scene she had been given only moments to view. The Huntress found herself extremely aggravated when her sister Arndís immediately left her in the dust by answering that there had been six prey creatures hidden in the foliage, not the five that she had noticed. Her competitive nature had risen and she was soon as capable as any in the quick observation of detail. The Trainer had been patient with her and with all the students on this first cycle of education. However, on the next occasion he was quick to reprimand and even punish anyone he though needed more inspiration.

It was during the second class that Ulfrde had become a little bored with the repetitive exercises being conducted on the viewer, and wished that she were out on the trail. In the real jungle she would show this Trainer Honorable Yrándr how keen her eyes were! He had quickly noticed her wavering focus and drew her back to the exercise with a growled version of her name. She had been duly embarrassed to be caught and reprimanded in front of her sisters. Everyone knew she had always been their leader, always the best at everything regarding the Hunt! It was then and there that she had decided to dislike the guardian who had been with her all of her life. The Hunter that her mother called 'Yang' became the center of blame for anything that went wrong in training.

She eyed him coolly during every class that he instructed or assisted with. In the field, if he was nearby during a practice or hunt, she deliberately snubbed him and asked someone else if there was something she needed or had a question about. When he wasn't looking, she studied him carefully. _One must know the enemy; it is a prime rule before battle_. _One day I will challenge him in the kehrite. I will knock him on his backside in front of everyone! On that day I will humiliate him and teach him not to trifle with me! _

Ulfrde observed his every movement and over time she noticed his quiet strength and how patient he was when a student tried but still needed to practice. She began to realize that what he wanted was for each female to do her very best. She still did not speak to him out of her stubbornness, yet grew to appreciate that he was nearby in every risky situation. He never interfered unless there was life or disabling injury at stake, and then he helped just enough to turn the situation around. Yrándr never took over for the student – he let them take the consequences of their actions, unless of course he saw that what they were doing was simply stupid.

It was on their third Hunt as a team that Ulfrde had been given the position of second to her sister Arndís and Signy was given third. Ulfrde's pride was wounded, yet she knew that each of them must practice taking all positions in the Chiva group in order for the Trainers to decide on the best organization for each trio. So she dutifully, but unhappily, fell in behind Arndís and let her sibling track the beast they were after. She knew that she was the better tracker, and so did Arndís who was nervously wishing that it was Ulfrde on point seeking out this large carnivore.

The tracks ended at a copse of tall and sturdy plants, the kind her mother called 'trees'. Arndís walked back and forth trying to spot or scent where the dangerous creature had gone into the jungle as Ulfrde tried to keep still. It was obvious to her, from the claw marks on one of the trunks, that the beast had taken to the trees but Arndís hadn't caught it yet. Instead of turning to her second, as an experienced Hunt Leader would have, Arndís was letting herself be pressured by Ulfrde's impatient perfume into trying to figure it out alone. Trainer Yrándr stood by, watching the Leader think and watching Ulfrde's growing frustration.

Suddenly there was movement overhead! Without a word to Arndís, Ulfrde leapt into the tree. Taking the high jump beside her was Yrándr, his blade already drawn. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him move beside her, ready to keep herself and Arndís from the lethal claws and teeth of this potentially expensive mistake. It was dishonorable - this pampering of them just because they were the recreated females, Ulfrde decided. She was concerned for the safety of her sister, but she was equally concentrating on taking a trophy. When she realized her instructor meant to kill the prey in their defense she yelled out, "H'ko! Mine!" He checked his speed at her cry of claim and, blade in hand, watched carefully as she confronted her intended kill. It had whirled to see her upon hearing her voice, and now Ulfrde was balanced on large branches – face to face with a deadly carnivore that would enjoy nothing more than having Yautja Tartare for a meal. Acting quickly before it could spring, she surprised the beast when she leaped into the air, caught another branch with one hand and swung herself up under the animal's belly. Her hand locked around the blade handle as she thrust up with all her strength right below its chest. Screaming in rage and pain, it leaped onto her and they both fell from the branches. Ulfrde withdrew the blade as she fell, before the mass tried to knock her hand from its hold, and quickly grabbed onto a handful of the loose skin under its neck while pulling herself up under the thing's chin as her blade hand again sought to stab. Just as she thrust the point into the creature, they hit the ground. The force grounded her blade deep within the bleeding body with her fist still grasping the handle. Huge claws impaled her torso as it tried in vain to fight her off, its jaws snapping feverishly above her head as she kept her skull-top protected by tucking it under the beasts chin. She moved to try and stand – to lift the violent animal and keep it above her head – when she heard the voice of Yrándr. "H'ko Ulfrde! Stay down! Stab it in the heart!"

Somehow, she managed to listen to him even as she wrestled her trophy. Pulling her blade from the warm, slippery interior she again drove it home. This time she angled up into the chest, searching for the beating heart, ignoring both of her hands and arms as they screamed for relief. One was fatigued from the stranglehold she had on the thrashing neck, the other from holding fast onto the blade and the effort of plunging it through the tough skin. The screams grew silent as her metal missed the heart and easily punctured the soft lung. The creature would weaken now, but Ulfrde knew she could not hold on much longer. Once more she pulled out and then stabbed, aiming for the heart. She rammed at what she hoped was the pulsing muscle and felt the trueness of her aim in the denser, throbbing tissue. Summoning the last of her waning arm's force, she kept the pressure on and felt the body give way and finally slump lifelessly on the bloody ground. She joined it as she collapsed from exhaustion.

She felt a large hand over hers as Yrándr pried her frozen-in-place fingers from the short blade handle and tried to massage some feeling back into them. She nodded in silent gratitude and then got up to take her trophy. Her legs felt rubbery but firm enough as she bent to separate the head. It was a very large one – the dark eyes were closed now, but the jaws, all four of them, were still open in struggle and rage. The many fangs were as long as her hand and had driven her will to keep herself tucked in under the neck of the berserk beast. She went to hoist her trophy but found she did not have the strength. Looking down, Ulfrde saw the deep holes from the vicious claws and her own bright green blood flowing freely. Before she could move to open her med kit, he was there. Without a word he tended her wounds and did not flinch when she growled at him as the injection hit her system. Normally, she would have worked to keep silent but the struggle with her now dead prey had taxed her. When she could move again, she took her trophy and looked around for the rest of her team. They were standing respectfully off to one side. She nodded at them and then turned to Yrándr to express her appreciation.

Instead of nodding or saying anything, Ulfrde stood there, transfixed, and took him in. It was as though she were truly seeing him for the first time. All the time and effort she had spent in watching him, how was it that she had not really seen his perfection? She saw not just strength, but power. The latent power within each muscle and joint that were perfectly controlled to deliver only as much as he commanded, no allowed, each part. She saw the protectiveness and the will and the intellect within his deep brown eyes. Ulfrde realized the loyalty and honor of one who had guarded her mother along with herself and all her siblings since before they were born. All that she suddenly understood spoke deeply within her in a way that she had not experienced before. Caught off-guard, she only stood and stared. Finally realizing that her sisters and her Trainer were waiting on her, she rumbled and clicked to him, expressing her thanks. He nodded his understanding and they all traveled back to the camp.

Since that time, Ulfrde had felt him deep within her soul. As she pondered this and found that her feelings and desires were awakening, she tightly capped them inside. Such things were not allowed before Chiva, she had reprimanded herself and fell into training even harder than before. So now in the present, she wore the mark and she had decided to select her own mate. Now she had the backing of her Bearer and her Matriarch!

_Why wait? Why wait the cycles until we return to Yaut? He is here! My quarters are private. I could go and tell him of my selection right now. I could secure him before we land and before…any of my sisters has the chance to! Not that I wouldn't be able to secure him as my own through the kehrite – but such a waste of effort and time! Who of my sisters would be stupid enough to challenge me? _The Huntress jumped up and made for her door. _He is here. _Through the hallway she tracked his scent. _He is here. _Up through the portal into the control hallway where HE stood at the piloting controls. _Ships have operational pilots to run them on the known route home. He is mine! _She made her way to where he stood, her eyes blazing with desire.

The Hunter was checking their course. Certainly there was no need for his piloting skills right now, but he was bored. The Chiva had been successful, the females were busy polishing trophies and readying themselves for mating back on Yaut. It was something he really didn't want to think about. When was the last time he had mated? Really mated? Not with some ooman fertility stand-in that he had taken as a last desperate measure to preserve his Bloodline. That was not it. _When was the last time I scented the thick, heady musk of a female ripe for my rod? When was the last time one strode up fearlessly to me and tried to shove me to the ground with her gorgeously huge hand upon my chest? _

Honorable Yrándr completed his checks and emitted an almost human-like sigh. Daydreaming about rut-ready females was extremely unproductive, he realized. It nearly made the scent of one real in your mouth! His loins warmed to life an instant before his eyes caught her – the now Blooded Huntress Ulfrde's long strides covering the ground between them, her beautifully muscled arm reaching out to deliver his daydream to life. Excitedly he ground his tusks and immediately flooded the command deck with his bull-scent. Her perfume thickened in his mouth as she approached and he steadied himself for her thrust of challenge. His dark eyes dilated to their fullest as he beheld her exquisite palm with strong fingers nearly at his chest, each one tipped with a sharp claw and ready to deliver him into luscious sweet agony.

Ulfrde felt the warmth radiate from his body as he puffed out his chest to meet her. His musk had added weight to the air as she walked toward him, breathing it in and savoring its richness. She felt the calling of her inner spaces to him and moisture began to flood the way in preparation for the tool of seeding. His warmth cushioned the space under her hand as it closed in to shove at his pounding heart and found…only air as he stepped out of the way. A growl slipped between her teeth as she looked at him with her face screwed up in puzzlement.

"Honorable Ulfrde," Yrándr huffed. "Your mate has already been decided. What are you doing?"

"Sei! He has and it is I who has made the decision! The Matriarch supports me! Our great Huntresses decided for themselves who was worthy to be their mate. I follow this tradition! Do you seek to avoid my challenge?" Her growls were low and sultry. They made Yrándr desire her even more. Still, he questioned her – he had not attained his current status by letting his gonads overrule his brain.

"Ulfrde! Gather your mind! To bear a pup Sired by a High Council Elder is a great prize! You must desire only the best for your offspring – for the benefit of all of us!"

"I desire the best – I have given it thought and study. My decision and desire is you, Yrándr! Why must greatness only reside in the seed of those on the Council? You are most worthy, Honorable Yrándr!"

"Then proclaim your challenge to me in public after we make port. Let the High Elder chosen for you challenge me and I will fight for the honor of mating you, most comely Ulfrde! That is the true and honorable way."

"And, with all respect," Ulfrde was coming down from her mating high, "you might lose! I don't want to breed with the High Elder! I want you and you alone!"

"Ulfrde!" he shot back with great seriousness, "When did you become so selfish? Pups are the future of us all – they must be made from only the best stock available. Those who sit on the High Council are legends among us! Their Bloodlines MUST be maintained for the good of all. You know this!"

She felt the weight of his words as though her Bearer were scolding her back when she was just a toddling pup. Her head hung down in remorse and sorrow. "But I have studied you!" She roared at him, suddenly raising her head back up. "You ARE of the best available! And who is the High Council – a bunch of Hunters – to decide who should Sire my pup? Have I no say in this?" Her eyes bore holes through Yrándr.

"No, you are right," he nodded after a moment's silence. "The choice is yours, **but** it is also the right of any to challenge and you MUST accept the winner – if you are honorable and true to our ways. Your need is upon you strongly, and most certainly impacting the way you think!"

With those words, Ulfrde set upon him with a ferocious growl, intent on tearing him limb from limb. She was a large, prime specimen for her age – but not nearly as large as the much older giant Hunter. His chuckle at her charge made any rationality she had left run and hide into the background of her anger. An enraged Yautja female, even a young one, was something to treat carefully! How dare he laugh! She had studied and selected him for the honor of creating new life within her womb. Hunter Yrándr took each of her wrists in his huge hands and pinned them to her sides, while body slamming her to the wall. Immobile, she could only scream and snap at him. Roaring epithets, she struggled held helplessly in his control, "You pauk-de c'jit! Is this how you treat an Honorable female?"

"No," he calmly replied. "If you will settle down I will release you." He waited while she continued to fight and yell at him. Eventually she tired and realized that the other two Hunters had come to the bridge to see what the fuss was all about. Her Sire and Uncle had looks of intense concern upon their faces. Embarrassed, she went limp in the Hunter's grasp and quieted. True to his word, the High Council Guard relinquished his hold on her. The other Hunters left the room as the scent of her distress at her own behavior came to them. They knew that Yrándr would handle the situation.

* * *

The Huntress Chance cautiously cracked the drop ship hatch and peeked outside. Her stomach was still recovering from residence near her throat as she had ridden the falling floor nearly straight down to penetrate the planet's surface. Plowing through the frail floating canopy of plant-life overhead, the tube-like craft had nosed into the soft mud in an unspectacular thud as globs of heated sludge were thrown up from the impact. Observing nothing of a threatening nature, she stepped out gingerly onto the tacky surface and found it would support her.

Rainfall was almost constant on this murky world. Everywhere she looked was damp and covered with bluish growing things. Water had collected in the folds and curls of leaves as well as in small depressions in the pitted rocks piled up in a mound near them. The rocks were ancient indicators of a landing spot and were still used for that purpose. With the cloud of floating plants above, all monitoring of the surface had to be done via instrument or drones. The rocks had been stacked into a sign visible from above by the many hands of the Eta that the Yautja had stationed to work here. The Eta were the slave class of the Hunters and consigned to do heavy or unsavory labor in service to their masters.

On this planet they had constructed a Chiva pyramid as well as the mound and nearby landing site. Since there were no known intelligent life forms on this planet, in fact there were not any animals, only plants, the Eta would also be fulfilling the role of cocoon vessels for the Hard Meats. It was considered an honorable ending for those whose life was spent in service to the Clans. The slaves chosen to supply the Kiande Amedha a growing place for their offspring were usually very old, ill or unfit Eta. And, they were more often then not – Yautja. As long as their body mass was still sufficient to harbor and feed a Hard Meat larva, Eta unable to work anymore would suffice regardless of any sickness they might have in their bodies.

The builders of this place and providers of their Chiva did not concern Chance and her Hunt mates right now. They were focused on accomplishing their goal and earning their status as adults. Nothing would interfere with this sacred mission. Chance was paired with two of Sally's offspring. They were among the first of the Matriarch's artificially enwombed children and were siblings of Arndís, Ulfrde and Sig'ny. The two of them had trained together since the beginning along with Doru. When she died, it had left a conundrum. A proper Hunt must be made of three individuals. It was with relief and concern that they had been teamed extremely late in their training with the upstart Chance - an offworlder who was also half-ooman, just as they were, but had not had the advantages of the Healers to ensure that the majority of her expressed traits were Yautja.

It was difficult for the two Huntresses to mesh with Chance, they had worked for so long together as just a pair that it was unnatural to try and work with a third. Still, they perceived that the new female was talented and had been trained by one of the best – Honorable Theron. So single mindedly, they bent themselves to win the prize and within a short time became a satisfactory team of three. The largest and most skilled was appointed Leader with Sally's other daughter appointed as second. That left Chance falling in obediently as third which was okay with her. She had never been a leader among her family group. If anything, she was fiercely independent and determined to protect herself from anything as horrible as she had experienced at the hands of her brother and his friends. She was happy to join the hunt and would try her hardest to do as Theron had trained her. But mating afterwards? There must be a way out of that, she reasoned. _I am not going to let any of those monsters put his claws on me! I need to get out and see…the things I've not yet seen and do…the things I've not yet done! I don't want to be some Hunter's baby-making machine. Mom, I'm sorry – I don't know if I can become what you want me to be – part of this society – it's so alien…so strange. I know I look pretty much like them – but inside, I'm different! _The red-locked female kept pace with the others, bringing up the rear of the party. Ever alert to whatever might be behind them she looked over her shoulder at intervals trying to sense any danger.

As this Chiva team came to the pyramidal temple, they were keenly watched by three Hunters high up above in the transport ship. All of them had been among the females' Trainers and they were all acutely interested in the females' success. Healer Myn'dill, along with a High Council Elder and the Honored Ancient A'daifr, watched the Huntresses below via a feed from a hovering drone as the team muddled about a bit after landing. Finally they organized and set out for the adjacent pyramid entrance.

Chance lightly jogged up the multitude of steps behind her two Hunt sisters. They crept over the stone plaza encountered about two-thirds of the way up the pyramid and mentally prepared to enter the large dark passageway in front of them. As the Leader's steps lightly covered the stones she came to an abrupt halt as if paralyzed in mid-step. Turning to the others she clicked, 'The trigger stone lies under my left foot." Then she slowly returned to her stride and lifted the foot of causation from the slightly sunken paver.

Once inside, she consulted her wrist to locate the energy weapons cache. Chance bored into the three-dimensional vision hovering over her mission Leader's wrist. There was a chamber above them and to the right that relayed the proper signal confirming it to be the resting place of their needed weapons. The mission head female shut the image down and took off with the others following. She ascended a series of ramps that turned this way and that until she was finally at the proper level and at last stood in front of the sought-for room. The three looked around and found the walls covered in carvings of Hunter and Hunted as they courageously struck down and claimed trophies from the coveted prey.

"There," clicked the second in the Hunt Code and pointed across the space with her fore-finger. The others followed the line from her talon and found the intricately carved door set into the wall. Following their Leader, they walked over to the door and began to search for a way to open it. The second began to interpret the story told by the complicated carvings, while the Leader began to cover every inch of it with all the settings of her masked vision. Chance decided to begin to feel the carving with her sensitive fingertips angled to keep her comparatively shorter talons up off the surface. She felt the raised and indented places in the hard smoothness. As she kept feeling, an occasional notch would slip under her touch. There seemed to be no significance to it.

Suddenly, the second chattered, "The pattern! The carving is the same pattern as the path of contemplation in the great Hall of Paya! It is the path of answers that we walk in silence. Remember?" Her eager face turned to Chance and her sister. "Chance, what do you feel as you run your fingers over it? Follow the path from the beginning and see what you feel!"

Immediately Chance relocated to the start of the spiraling path and traced through the twists and turns. Indeed the notches were there also, but in a familiar rhythm. What was it? She reported her findings to the Leader who signaled for Chance to move aside and let her touch the carving. The red-locked one did so and watched in silence as her Hunt sister walked the path with her fingertips. "The nicks represent our Hunt Code," she clicked. Silently she traced the path, her mouth moving with the words as they formed. She signaled her sisters to step back and then gave the carving several talon taps in specific places. A great cracking sound signaled the opening of the storage door which moved out towards them, bringing a shelf with it upon which lay three shoulder cannons.

The second moved to take one but was stopped by the rough warning growl of her sibling. She quickly nodded her apology. Then the Leader proceeded to deliver a weapon to each of them which they quickly placed in position on one of their shoulders. Now properly armed, they began to search for prey.

One never knew exactly how the appearance of any set of Hard Meats would turn out. They took most of their genetic instructions from their mother, the hive Queen. But they also took a bit from their hosts, and they all took the same bit. You never could be sure which attribute of the host the larval Hard Meat would decide to incorporate, which left each Chiva with a savory element of surprise.

Deep inside the temple, while the Huntresses' located their weapons, the latest group of Hard Meat had hatched, consumed their first meal and promptly molted, revealing their adult forms. Tall, lean biped bodies supported strong upper appendages that were alternately used as arms and legs. A neckless thorax supported the long black head that sported a set of mandibles which splayed slightly to allow the snapping inner jaws to spring out. This new prey was not only protected by a black exo-skeleton, grasping outer jaws, and a killing inner mouth – they also possessed the uncanny sense of smell that their hosts had once utilized. The hunted had turned the tables on the unsuspecting Huntresses and were currently searching for their scent.

* * *

_Extremely Honorable Prey, _considered the Ancient, A'dairfr, as he remained mesmerized by the drone-conveyed scene far below him. The Hunters were suited up in their armor, ready to plunge down to the Hunt if needed. It happened rarely but in a situation where every moment counted, being ready to go was prudent. He grunted and pointed at the location of the prey, then rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. Myn'dill and the High Elder signaled their agreement.

Myn'dill and A'daifr were already acquainted. A'diafr had been the single Ancient recovered from Paya's House on the Blue Planet. The Healer had been able to help the Ancient recover from the poison being given to him and assist in his full recovery. For his part, A'daifr considered that he owed the Healer a life debt. The two had not exactly become friends, but had kept in touch and even hunted together occasionally. It was Myn'dill who had requested the Ancient to become one of the females' Trainers – a duty which the seasoned Elder Yautja had accepted with silent gratitude. It was good to have a function in life. A'dairfr had also submitted his name to the High Council for consideration as a matched rut partner for one of the new females. His was a Bloodline of long repute, and worth preserving. However, none of the High Council members were willing to give up either of their assigned mates. The High Elder who had been paired with the deceased Doru was down to a single mate anyway and he was most adamant that he would not give up his lone opportunity to Sire.

It had come down to Chance. As the new female to be added to the group, she was hesitantly offered to the Ancient, assuming her Chiva was completed of course. In normal times, he would have been offended by the offer of a hybrid. In these abnormal times the Ancient understood that a pup born resulting from a seeding of this female would be the most genetically Yautja pup possible – unless he wanted to wait for the next batch of Sally's female pups to mature.

Being an Ancient, he knew his time was short, so he considered that the red-locked oddity was not unattractive in body – the rest could be overlooked. Now he watched her every move down below, anticipating her return as a marked Clan member and reflecting that this might be his last opportunity to Sire a pup. He was getting long in the tusk and time might be short before Last Hunt would beckon him as irresistibly as any siren call. When that happened, he would plan carefully so that his death would come with great glory. _One more pup in my line before I leave, Great Paya. I vow she will be named in your honor! _His thoughts flitted to remembering that he was among the few privileged to mate with one from this first brace of females in this most odd situation.

_What is the purpose in all this Paya? How strange it is that we owe the continuation of the Yautja to a female ooman. I have not seen her since we returned after leaving my place of incarceration on the Blue Planet. I find myself curious as to how she has faired as Matriarch. Perhaps I will visit her when we return._

* * *

As mission third, Chance still trailed the other two as they walked through the pyramid with more confidence now that the castors were mounted on their shoulders. A clattering sound, as if something was moving over the stone floor, came from behind them. Immediately the group spun around and scanned for heat signatures. The bluish-black skeletal forms of four Hard Meats appeared as they clambered along the walls and ceiling with tails moving as though possessed by a separate will. They hissed at the females, realizing they had been spotted and Chance shivered at the drooling pointed teeth revealed by their opening mandibles. She looked for an opening among them. Four against three was not impossible, if you kept your wits about you. The Hard Meats paused for a moment and then began to advance. A duet of growls came from behind her, and the other two Huntresses rushed by Chance to tangle with their prey. Not to be left behind, Chance was ready to follow but whirled around to face the other side of the darkness as her neck scales nearly stood on end. Her mask turned this way and that, quickly taking in the situation.

It was the other three Hard Meats, now coming up upon them from the direction in which they had been walking. They were caught in-between all seven of the snapping jaws of death. _Okay, you fuckers! I'm taking at least one of you with me! _

Chance heard the thud behind her of the Leader and the second tackling their prey. But she couldn't turn to look. Her hands were full. Full of sleek, shiny black elongated skulls whose faces bore no eyes but followed her movements anyway. Faces with strong black mandibles resembling her own - except for the needle-like tusks. She could just imagine the grip of them around her skull and the thin tusks penetrating into her brain. Physically shaking off the terrifying image, she aimed her canon at one and tried to work around it. The prey creatures were watching her with threatening outer jaws that worked back and forth. What were they doing? Why did they not charge? She worked around them until she had one lined-up behind the other. Then, she fired.

The blue bolt of plasma hit the first Hard Meat directly in its spindly neck, decapitating it nicely. From there, the energy shot traveled into the second one and cut a large groove through the top of its skull. The first Kiande Amedha slumped to the floor, its awkward head sliding off the neck as neatly as though cut by an invisible blade. The head rolled sideways a turn and then stopped, blood hissing into the stone floor. Its hunting partner with the lobotomy began weaving back and forth, holding the spurting skull with leaky hands. Blood gushed out in rhythmic spurts as the heart chambers pushed it to feed the dying brain. The spurts grew weaker and it fell in a heap on top of its dead sibling.

There was only one left of the three Chance had turned to confront. In all the commotion of the rest of its party fighting and dying, it had leapt up onto the ceiling and tried to stealth closer to the oddly scented Huntress. It was her smell that had caught them, causing all three of them to pause. It was the pause of the end for two of them as it had given Chance time to aim and fire. Now she searched for the third, even as it edged closer over her head.

As Chance was busy with her three Hard Meats, the Leader and her sister took on the four that had been tracking them. They both charged their prey – a move which took the Kiande Amedha by surprise, not expecting two to be so bold against four. They ignored the third Huntress who had turned to find the rest of their scouting party.

Both females fired their cannon, taking out two of the prey. The other two bounded towards them even as their kin died. In the time it had taken for the Huntresses to fire, the Hard Meats were upon them, but they had misjudged - the Hunt Leader female was big and strong. She wrestled excitedly with her potential trophy pleased to be in jehdin-jehdin, the hand-to-hand trial, with such honorable prey. With one hand she grasped its neck and with the other, the tip of its slashing deadly barbed tail. A burst of adrenaline hit her and she picked the beast up in the air! Holding it over her head, she crashed it down to the floor in front of her where its hip was crushed from the blow. It screamed and tried to rise, but the Leader's blade was there to meet it and secure her trophy.

The second was not having as easy a time. Her Hard Meat had bitten her several times on her arms and torso. The bites were shallow as she managed to keep it some distance away but the thing was strong and avoided her attempts to subdue it. In desperation she took a chance. Moving her leg nearest its tail, she lifted her foot and stomped down on it. A scree of pain left its black mouth as the Huntress flung a flying blade into the heaving chest where it buried itself. The Kainde Amedha died instantly, its heart cleaved in two. The second claimed her trophy with a roar of victory!

Both of Sally's offspring turned to behold Chance scanning the room for the last Hard Meat, the two dead prey bodies behind her and the final one coiled like a spring above her, ready to pounce. They both thought to yell to her, but that moment's distraction would be all the Hard Meat would need to take her – so they remained motionless and silent witnesses to the unfolding Hunt in front of them.

Chance felt the instinctual warning again as the scales on her neck stretched up and out to nearly ninety degrees. _Its over my head, _came to her suddenly as she immediately felt stupid for not checking above where she stood. Just as it dropped from the ceiling, she went down on one knee, lifting her spear straight up where it pointedly greeted the incoming Hard Meat. It grinned at her, that drooling every-tooth-perfect grin as it slid down the spear towards her. The slobbering did not cease as the thing died, but strung down upon her in gooey drips as the body slowly slid to where her hands grasped the metal rod. Seeing that it was dead, she let go and secured her trophy.

With the skull separated from the body and slung in a mesh bag, Chance finally realized that her Hunt sisters were looking at her. She finally looked up at them and saw each one with their trophies. She nodded respectfully to them, and they nodded back to her as an equal. "Time to mark," said the Leader. So each one unmasked and took turns using a dripping Hard Meat finger to etch their Clan mark upon their head. Theron's Clan had decided to adopt Chance, just as they had adopted him.

She had spent considerable time learning to make the design, practicing upon her forehead with a stylus which only left a red welt. She had practiced until the welt was perfect. So now, with ease, she drew it upon her forehead in acid. Her teeth clenched at the burning and searing as it ate through her scales and skin. It would be allowed to heal without treatment so that the scar would be there for life – a symbol of great achievement to be worn proudly. Without hesitation, Chance pulled her mask over and placed the Clan's mark there also. In the middle of the metal forehead, the mark served to distinguish her on the Hunt and in the field as a forever member of a select and honorable breed.

* * *

Monitoring the group from the transport, A'dairfr and the others had been extremely tense as the Hard Meats had surrounded the females. Without voicing it, they had all been on the verge of dropping the ship down to interfere with the Hunt. The Ancient had scented their tension. One look from him was all it took to tell them it was not yet a time to interfere. He wanted to see what the three of them could do. Was this unique hybrid really worthy to carry on his line? They had watched the subsequent fight barely breathing as the Leader, her second and Chance performed superbly.

A'dairfr wondered at her ability to detect Hard Meat as if by magic. _Does she scent them? How did she know they were coming up from behind? How did she know that the one was overhead? Was it simply luck or did she possess some special skill? What did that gray Dor'an ooman-breeder teach her? She IS worthy to carry my Bloodline. I shall fill her with my seed, and bury my tusks between her ruddy locks!_


	8. Chapter Seven: Finishing the Job

**Chapter Seven: Finishing the Job**

"_We shall neither fail nor falter, we shall not weaken or tire…give us the tools and we will finish the job." – Winston Churchill_

The reports were coming in to the Matriarch. Trickling in, it seemed to her at a maddeningly slow pace, came the news relayed from the Hunt ships, regarding the outcome of each of her daughters Chiva hunts. She was elated that Arndís, Ulfrde and Signý had been successfully marked, and now she waited in her quarters for reports on the others.

Sally sat at her desk, reviewing her lessons in the Yautja written language. Although she could never learn to speak it, she was determined to be able to read and write. She wanted to leave her memoir and Theron had agreed to edit it for her. So she laboriously worked at it nearly every day and slowly, even painfully at times, it was coming together. The story of her life keyed by her own hand would become part of the archives of the Yautja. In time, it would be handed over to the Hall of Antiquities – a human's perspective forever integrated into the well-preserved culture. Some cycle, far into the future, someone would figuratively dust off her tome and read the record of her trials and the motives behind her decisions, as well as her joys and heartbreaks.

Pacing around the room, the female called Duncan joined her in the waiting process. While Sally was concerned for all her daughters, Duncan was concerned for one – her offspring, Chance. Unlike Sally, Duncan had nothing to work on to occupy her mind and being a singularly physical person, she was more comfortable walking around anyway.

"You are wearing a path on my floor!" exclaimed the Matriarch in mock concern as the sound of continuous footsteps finally wore on her nerves. "I'm nervous about the girls too. Shall we go for a walk around the garden?"

The old woman nodded, "That might help. I've never been a good waiter."

Sally took a moment to calculate that Duncan was talking about patience, not dinner service. _I've not been around my own kind in a very long time – apparently! _She grinned internally at herself. She understood the mindset and translated words of the Yautja quite well now but, sometimes, this human female required interpretation. The irony entertained her.

The women headed for the beautifully overgrown garden, lush with the many plants that Sally had planted within it. Her servants faithfully tended it these days, while the Matriarch walked its winding paths or sat in one of its shady nooks to nap or read. She did not bring any new plants to the collection any more, only contenting herself with admiring what was here and now.

"My girls grew up running this garden," Sally mused aloud. "When they were first learning to hunt, my Consort loosed their prey in the house and they cornered and killed it in this yard!"

"I bet they were all very active when they were little," politely replied Duncan.

"Oh, they were! Literally climbing the walls! And they were all…adorable. I miss having babies to cuddle."

"You do? But…" The older woman halted the words about to come forth.

"Go ahead Duncan, you can speak your mind to me," Sally encouraged her.

"Well, I was afraid of being rude to you. You've been so very kind to me and the others.

"I am not easily offended, Duncan. Please say what you have to say."

"Well…you have babies being raised by your servants don't you?"

"I do!" chuckled Sally. "But I fear contaminating them with too much of my humanness, so I stay away most of the time. I mean, I do visit them daily but I don't hold them – I just talk to them so that they know my voice. They also know my scent of course."

"So you think that your first daughters are too human?" Duncan was curious.

"It occupies my thoughts at times. There have been some behaviors that have…concerned me, so I'm being very careful with my latest offspring. And besides, I feel like I've had my kids. Twenty daughters were and are plenty to care for!"

The garden was a waving, cool oasis in the growing heat of the morning. They walked together, side by side, through the fragrant plants as Duncan, in a rare moment of camaraderie with the Matriarch, began to talk about her life on Earth before she had been taken. Sally found herself only half-listening. Her focus was really on any sound from her com and besides, she found that tales of Earth did not interest her much anymore. It was the home of her beginnings, but this cycle found it a lifetime away. Her home, her interests were here. Suddenly, a small chime bounced up from her wrist.

"Excuse me," she quickly mouthed to Duncan and opened the line. The voice of Sig'dan came to both of them.

"Honorable Matriarch, I wish to report on a Chiva."

"Greetings, Honorable Healer Sig'dan," she replied formally. "Report to us. Duncan is here."

All Chiva reports were being routed through Sig'dan as the best available translator on the Hunt missions. Sally heard the jubilation in his tone as he quickly reported that another three Huntresses had successfully killed prey and marked themselves. Those three included the outsider, Chance. A sort of war whoop went up from Duncan, surprising both the nearby Sally and far away Sig'dan at the other end of the com.

"We are proud of their accomplishment and anticipate their return," replied the Matriarch, trying to return the formality and dignity this event required, and then she silenced the line.

As soon as she had finished the communication, Duncan abruptly addressed her. "I will wish to return to Earth now."

"Now? Your daughter will be coming home to a great welcome. You do not wish to be part of that welcome?"

"No. I've witnessed her succeed in becoming part of your world. Now I wish to return home. The goodbye…is too painful. Please tell her how proud I am of her."

"It would mean more if you told her yourself," Sally gently chided. "What about this is troubling you?"

Duncan's face began to stiffen. "Neither of us has ever felt anything but pain and sorrow from any, uh, encounter with a male of your kind. I don't want to be around here to witness this…this mating thing. It's not going to be a good time for Chance."

Sally looked thoughtful, but her mastery of a poker face revealed nothing more. She was silent a few moments as Duncan looked away, not wishing to make eye contact after revealing such a disturbingly intimate fact. The Matriarch weighed her response cautiously. The search for the truth of things sometimes required discomfort. She wondered how much more discomfort this kidnapped woman could tolerate.

"Do you know – how much of going on the Chiva was Chance's desire and how much of it was her fulfilling your plans for her?"

The question smacked into Duncan's thoughts as firmly as though Sally had reached over and hit her in the face. "Wwwhat? What do you mean?" Her voice firmed as she challenged the Matriarch to explain herself.

The younger, yet silver-haired, female drew herself up into the full regality and dignity of her station. "It has been put plainly to both of you from the beginning that passage into adulthood includes the privilege of mating and bearing offspring. If this is something that is disagreeable to Chance, then why has she pursued it? Out of her own willingness to join us or out of the desire to do what she thinks will please you? It is important for me to know. I will never permit a woman to be subjected to unwanted sex – that has been a part of my mission all along." She ended her speech with a slight lowering of her voice and if she had been Yautja the sentence would have ended in a growl.

Ignorant of the level of anger within the Matriarch, Duncan retorted, "How dare you even suggest that I'd ask my daughter to become some sort of rut slut!" The wizened old face turned sour and Sally saw the ancient fists tighten. "I want only the best for her, dammit! To my sorrow, she looks more like…like…like one of your fucking Hunters then she does a human being – so what else can I do for her? Rob a bank and force her to undergo major plastic surgery?" Duncan's voice had risen in tone and tenor until she shrieked out the last of her words while Sally remained unflappable.

"Calm yourself." The words flipped out at Duncan very softly, but as an unmistakable order. "I will not permit any Hunter to mate with Chance if she is not willing – nor would any Honorable Hunter wish to do so! So I ask you again – is the Chiva truly her idea or is it yours?"

"Now that you question it, in all honesty…I…I'm not sure." Duncan pressed her lips together in a thin line.

"Then it will be imperative to ask her upon her return," Sally explained. "If she does not wish to mate and bear a pup, I do not know what the High Council's reaction will be. But I do know that I will not allow any of them to take advantage of her." She smiled kindly at Duncan, "I do have just a bit of power now and then around here."

"Well, I just don't get it. Why do any of them obey you?"

"Well, I've never thought of it as them obeying me. I bargain with them, Duncan. I bargained the use of the contents of my ovaries in exchange for the eventual freedom of human women from them. I understand their honor and also their ideas regarding what is right. I have learned to use those ideas when I reason with them and I reason fearlessly. Plus, they are used to being bossed around by a woman! In fact, they like feminine strength and authority. But I pick my battles wisely and try to work towards ends that are agreeable to both of us."

"You mean win-win?"

"Yes, I do."

"I'm sorry, Sally. I just felt very threatened by your questioning about Chance and I guess I forgot what you are trying to get done in your position here. I was very suspicious of you at first. Now that I know you better, I…I do trust you. I'll wait for Chance's return, but I need to get out of here as soon as possible afterwards."

"Thank you, Duncan, I will arrange for your transport as quickly as possible after our daughters return. Your words mean a great deal to me. I am getting along in years now, even though good Myn'dill works to keep me young. You are most certainly the last human I will ever call friend."

Sally extended an unpracticed hand to the old woman, who looked surprised and then shook it. "I think of you as a friend, too," Duncan replied. "Thank you for looking out for my daughter."

"You are…welcome," the Matriarch said, a bit awkwardly in an unaccustomed human-feeling exchange.

The close connection of the moment was broken by the thuds of hurrying servant feet as a hefty, yet squat, Aseigan ran into the garden. Looking down at the ground, he nodded and waited for permission to speak as he heaved, trying to catch his breath and held up a com for her to take. It was the portable household device, not her personal wrist band. "For ewe," he rumbled and waited for his mistress to take the device. "Hur'ree," he uttered in his broken English. "Prob-lim, Honorrbl Maatreerk."

With a worried face, Sally took the com from him and spoke into it, "This is Matriarch Sally." Sig'dan's voice came to her as he still traveled homeward aboard the Hunt ship, "Sal'lee, we a grave problem aboard this ship. We are about to reach orbit above Yaut. There was a Hard Meat missing in the kill count. We had all assumed it had returned to the temple and was destroyed along with the Queen. It has just been discovered hiding within the ship. We cannot land with it alive, Sal'lee. It must be destroyed. Ulfrde has rightfully assumed responsibility for the hunt as she was the Chiva Leader. If she cannot kill it, then Aldúlfr will lead our team to destroy it. I…just wanted you to know, and to hear it from me."

"Sig-dan, what will it mean if Ulfrde does not kill it?"

"She will be disgraced and possibly put on trial for marking herself without ensuring that the mission was accomplished and also for endangering the homeworld."

"Oh my God," was all the Matriarch could say as she reached for the dead Sire of her daughter. _Ulfr! Where are you when I need you?_

* * *

Previously, on board the transport carrying the successful young adults Ulfrde, Arndís and Signý, the Blooded Hunter and High Council Guard Yrándr was holding Ulfrde pinned to the wall by her wrists, waiting for her to calm down. Just a few moments ago, he had spurned her invitation to join with her in mating which had sent her into frenzied anger. Not wanting to injure the precious female, the much larger Hunter simply held her body against the wall until her ability to control herself returned. He was both flattered and shocked by her invitation.

_I have always thought that she would turn out to be most desirable among these females. Her desire to hunt and excellent skills would turn any Hunters head. I have always guarded her family…it is understandable that she would desire to mate with me but how can she turn down an offer from a High Elder? In the old days, females fought each other for such an honor. I refuse to be puffed up by her offer. She is not reasoning clearly._

His thoughts as he waited for Ulfrde's head to clear, were abruptly halted as a thin, high piercing shriek followed by the roar of Hunter challenge came from the deck immediately below them. He witnessed the look of horror that came over the female's face as they both identified the cry of a Kiande Amedha. It was on the ship! There was no time to consider how it had boarded, or where it had been hiding as Yrándr released the Huntress and they both took off at a dead run toward the noise.

Below the main deck was the maintenance level where the ship's great engine and weapons could be accessed. Aldúlfr had come down the narrow ramp to see if he could find anything to tinker with as they approached Yaut. In truth, he was nervous. Something he would never admit to anyone, not even himself. He was nervous that his now Blooded offspring were about to leave the security of his ship and, after receiving the proper greeting to mark their Chiva, would be introduced to their mates and proceed into the rut. This kind of thing had never bothered him before. But he had never before been so involved with the raising of his own from infancy. These females were more than pups to hold his crown high over. They were his life's blood seeking out the future through the joining of his eldest, Ulfr, and the Matriarch. In fact, he was concerned for not just Ulfrde and Arndís, but also Sig'dan's offspring, Signý, and all the now adult females. It was no small thing to lay aside his protectiveness and allow some great High Elder to have his way with them! He chuffed his anxiety as he opened the portal to the small room where the maintenance tools were kept and an in-breath brought the scent of cooped-up prey directly to his brain.

Every cell in his body instantly went on high alert as he scanned the interior of the room, looking for any sign of heat. A nervous twitch of an unruly tail as it hung down the near wall gave away the Hard Meat's position on the ceiling up over the doorway. Instinctively, the great Elder jumped back just as the blackness overhead sprang down, screeching a war cry as it hit the ground. Aldúlfr's replying growl shook the room. Now he knew what had become of the Kiande Amedha that had left its pack! He sought to contain the creature in order for Ulfrde to kill it and finish her Hunt. Yet he knew that in his responsibility as mission Elder, he must not allow the beast to survive. Importation of Hard Meat onto Yaut was strictly forbidden!

Sig'dan came plunging down the ramp into the room just as Aldúlfr and the Hard Meat were posturing against each other, waiting to see who would be first to charge. He was closely followed by Yrándr and the three Huntresses. No one was masked or wearing any armor. Yrándr quickly handed his blade to Ulfrde who brandished it along with her own as she leapt to her ForeSire's side, growling. Slowly, as the thing's attention turned to this newcomer, Aldúlfr backed away.

Ulfrde evaluated her prey. By Kiande Amedha standards, it must be brilliant. It had apparently worked out some plan and somehow boarded the ship and gone into hiding. Was it going to seek retribution for the loss of its hive? Without a Queen, most Hard Meats were paralyzed. Their only function would have been to prepare one of their growing younglings to alter its physiology and assume the throne. But this one had some other agenda. Could it be intent on revenge? Whatever its motive, she was consumed with the duty of its needed death. Her entire future, as well as the well-being of Yaut was in her powerful hands.

Another low growl tremored from the vocal slits deep within her metal-ringed throat. Muscles tensed and she sprang low driving the force of her body towards the weaker belly. The mane of tough locks provided cover for the back of her head and neck against the lethal plunging jaw. Her peripheral vision was on guard for any movement of the spear-point tail as she charged, scoring a direct hit into the belly of the beast which gave a loud 'oooumph' as it flew backward. It quickly curled its neck forward and the mouth opened, sending the phallic inner mouth repeatedly plunging to take bites. Time and time again, it only succeeded in hitting the toughly plated locks where the keratin-like outer covering scraped distastefully against the tiny Hard Meat fangs.

Its tail also sought to curl round the impacted female, who was now driving the creature into the metal bulkhead wall, hoping to crush some vital part between the hull and her shoulder. From the corner of her left eye she saw the movement of the tail-turned-javelin coming at her. Her left arm rose to save her torso, hoping to catch the bladed tip in her hand. At the last moment, the clever Hard Meat dodged her hand but Ulfrde shifted slightly and caught it with her shoulder where the razor sharpness was snared in the deep target of muscles. With a sudden jolt, she snapped her shoulder back and fractured the tail tip. As the Huntress grunted in pain, the creature lashed its living whip back and forth, trying to dislodge and squeaking out its discomfort. All thoughts of biting ceased momentarily as the Kiande Amedha realized it was captured by the tip of its tail.

Sensing the change in the beast's focus the Huntress jammed her blades into the soft belly driving upwards. The heart was unreachable with such short weapons, but if she dug enough, she might be able to puncture the thing's solo lung. Another screech accompanied by an out breath of acid spray upon her nearly bare back told her she had breached the lung. With a loud roar she jumped backwards, causing the snap of a wave to quickly ripple through the tail and jolt her prey. It tried to cry out again but only the burble of acid blood came from the mouth as it drowned in its own fluid. Grimacing as it tried to breathe, it dropped to the floor still attached by the tail tip to the Huntress. The broken tail tip had not separated, saving her shoulder muscles from an acid etch. At her feet it writhed in the agony of a slow death until a quick swipe of her blade severed the elongated head from the tiny neck. She would have roared in victory had the drops of acid on her back not still been eating away at her. Instead, she roared in pain as a very large syringe of the blue healing formula was jammed into her back by Healer Sig'dan even as Elite Elder Aldúlfr struggled to remove the tail blade from her shoulder.

"Leave it!" barked Sig'dan. In the arena of healing his word was final. So the Elder left Ulfrde's shoulder and began helping the Healer apply an acid neutralizer to the females back. She shuddered from the pain, but never voiced a sound. When they were done with her back, the Healer attended her shoulder.

Meanwhile, Yrándr and the other females had been swabbing the deck with acid neutralizer and containing the dissolving remains of the prey. The head had been set aside for Ulfrde of course.

As they worked, Sig'dan took a fine surgical blade and opened the shoulder around the penetrating tail. Normally this would have been accompanied by an automatic cauterization from the blade, but Sig'dan feared he might nick the tail and send acid into the Huntress' shoulder. As a competent Healer he sought to preserve his patient for another day's Hunt or battle. Ulfrde was offered no anesthesia for this procedure, but Sig'dan did inject some pain-killer before he began to cut and pry. It could be disastrous if his patient flinched from pain during this delicate procedure.

She stood calmly and in complete trust of her uncle's skills. Finally he was able to get beyond the embedded tip and force it backwards and out the way it had entered. He disinfected and closed the deep wound. "You will need perhaps five cycles of rest, Honorable Huntress. And I mean rest – not 'bed rest'. Understand?"

She nodded trying to contain herself. She would not be mating with her assigned High Elder for at least five cycles! That would give her five cycles to coerce the reluctant Yrándr into her room. That meant that she would need to arrange to recuperate in the quarters of her Bearer, the Matriarch, where Yrándr still stood guard. _That shouldn't be difficult to arrange. Mom will want to keep watch over me and I won't object this time._

Satisfied that Ulfrde was recuperating, Sig'dan went to his quarters to contact Sally while Yrándr piloted the ship into orbit and Aldúlfr reported the Hard Meat incident to the High Council. It took only a little while to make the connection. "Sal'lee!" he exclaimed, "Ulfrde has retained her honor, the prey is dead. She fought bravely!"

"Thank God!" a relieved Sally breathed into the com.

"We will be in orbit soon – where we wait for all the other Chiva ships and then descend as one. The others will arrive very soon. Sal'lee – Ulfrde is injured. She will heal but requires some cycles of rest. So, no mating for her until she is healed."

"Injured? What happened?"

Sig'dan related her injuries briefly, in order to let Ulfrde have the joy of the telling of the battle to her Bearer. Sally was saddened that her daughter had born such pain and now had scars. But she knew that her former little girl was now a most desirable mate because of them. _You're all grown up now, Ulfrde. I miss when you would crawl across my bed to me! Will you let me care for you one last time as you heal from your hunt injuries? I doubt it. They're all grown up, Ulfr! Our little pups are gone! _

Sally assured Sig'dan that she would inform the High Council Elder of Ulfrde's success and also her condition. He would simply have to wait! Sally longed for the day when Ulfrde would be fully mature and possibly the largest female any had seen in a long time. It would be most enjoyable to see her daughter shove that self-assured High Elder to the ground! She laughed aloud at her daydream.

_So many of them have contacted me with the desire to choose their own mate. Some of them are willing to consider a desirable High Elder, but want to choose which one. Others have already picked a Hunter they wish to mate – and not always the one chosen for them! What is the High Council going to think? I could soothe the way with them ahead of time, but that might give them too much time to consider their actions. This time, I'll let the chips fall where they may. My girls are coming back as grown Huntresses – one of them the future Matriarch. They're going to stand up for what they want and I suspect that this breeding season is going down in history!_


	9. Chapter Eight:Serendipitous Satisfaction

**Chapter Eight: Serendipitous Satisfaction**

_Sex: the thing that takes up the least amount of time and causes the most amount of trouble._**_-John Barrymore_**

The incoming ships had held themselves in orbit, rounding the reddish-gold and green planet, over and over, until all the Chivas had been completed. Tensions cycled high on the ships whose females had completed their marking Hunt first and then impatiently had to wait for their slower sisters to arrive. The atmosphere inside those waiting vessels had been increasingly infiltrated with the scent of male stress as well as the intoxicating cocktail of female Huntresses coming into the full hot temper of the breeding season.

When at last the final Hunt was completed, the ships were piloted into position, strung out like so many skulls on a leather cord, until they were ready to make an orderly descent down to the spaceport. Gathered at the port, spilled out like so many insects onto the surrounding roadways were countless Hunters who had gathered to welcome their female counterparts home. Never in history had so many females gone on their Chiva missions at the same time. Never in history had so many males congregated to greet them, ready to attempt to bask in their heady fragrance and tantalizing tempers. Nearly every Hunter on the planet wanted to be able to tell the tale of having been there to welcome the reemerged females of Yaut. The promise of victorious females who might already broadcast the beckoning rut fragrance that drove even the least Hunter to hold his head high and unwisely challenge those he knew would beat him bloody, proved a potent lure even to Hunters who had never swathed themselves in the perfume of a Huntress before.

Each ship landed in turn and the hatchway opened to reveal a parade of victorious Yautja females followed by the older Hunters assigned to the mission. Each Huntress carried her trophies and held them high for all to admire as they were introduced by the mission Elder, one by one, to the roaring crowd. Then, a phalanx of black armored Arbitrators swarmed over to escort each female to her first adult dwelling. It was there that she would also be introduced to her mate – an Elder. All of them were of the High Council, except the Honored Ancient A'dairfr. All pairings had been chosen by drawing lots as agreeing on which Elder should mate which females had proved an impossible task.

Since all the High Elders, with one exception, were mating two females – that pair of females would be in separate living quarters, right next to each other. The High Elder would then select which one he would mate first or possibly let the females decide. The Elder who had only a single female to rut, due to the death of his other chosen female, had been satiated by being promised females from the already-in-training next generation. And the Ancient A'dairfr? He was quite satisfied with being on the list at all.

As yet unknown to her, Chance had been paired with A'dairfr – the only male to mate with a Yautja female this season who was not on the High Council. He accompanied her off the ship and soon disappeared with her behind the living black wall that was their guard. She had been wary of the closeness of this very old one but soon welcomed a familiar figure as the cluster of Arbitrators guided them through the crowd and to Chance's new quarters. She wondered why the Honorable Ancient had come with her. It was considerate of him, she supposed, to want to make certain she was in her new place safely. It was a long hike which took even longer due to the pressing crowds of Hunters blocking their way. The Arbitrators barked orders to them to clear a path, but the Hunters were more interested in trying to obtain a huff of Chance and did not obey. This resulted in them being physically tossed to the left and right as the burley and unsympathetic Arbitrators opened the way. Along the route, some of the Hunters even tried to get through the Arbitrators in order to get to Chance. They were simply mowed down or slung out of the way. As they bounced into others in the crowd many fights ensued. Chance could hear the challenge growls and sounds of earnest scuffle as she was being escorted to her dwelling. But she could see little with the massive guards surrounding her and the greatly honored old Hunter blocking her view.

* * *

Ulfrde and her sisters, Arndís and Signý, were also being taken, each one in the middle of a cluster of midnight armor, to their respective suites. Ulfrde had lost sight of Yrándr as soon as the Arbitrators had closed in around her. She felt suffocated within the moving cocoon and stifled the urge to slug one of them out of the way. Periodically, the face or arm of an unknown Hunter appeared as he tried to force past the guards to her, gasping for huffs of her scent, only to be thrown to the pack which congealed around them. The growls of fighting made her blood rise in excitement. She knew they were fighting because of her. Due to her size and reputation, she might be the most desirable female on the planet right now. _I demand to make the choice myself! _Her thoughts came out in a long growl, causing several of the Arbitrators to look at her. One even ventured a small huff. She glared at him and quickened her pace, knocking into the guards in front of her. "Hurry!" she ordered, and the guards hastened at her command. Their crowns bristled involuntarily, her rut scent and the issued order aroused them, but they kept discipline and moved along. Soon, they reached her destination – the guest quarters within the Matriarch's house and she left their ranks, hurrying through the main door and securing it behind her. Some of the Arbitrators joined the regular house guard to form an impenetrable wall outside the Matriarch's main portal. Others ran to stand guard at the other entrances. There they would stay until Ulfrde had healed and could be taken to her proper living arrangements.

Ulfrde stood at the door for a moment, enjoying the sight of her Bearer again. "Mom!" she rumbled out and embraced the small human woman standing in front of her. "I am so glad to see you!" The great Huntress bent down her neck to bury the front of her face in her Bearer's soft silvery hair. She huffed in the beloved scent that had comforted her since she could remember while Sally's arms went as far around her giantess daughter as they could go.

"I am glad you are here, Ulfrde," she murmured. "Easy daughter, your arms are strong!"

The Huntress let go of her and beamed down at her Bearer's face. "I did it!"

"I know! Sig-dan has been giving me reports. I am so very proud of you! No mother could be prouder of her offspring than I am of you, my dearest Ulfrde."

"Would you like to see my scars and hear of the hunt?"

"Of course I do! Let me show you to your room for the next few cycles and you can tell me all about it. Sig-dan says you are to rest, so I will be waiting on you." Sally's voice was full of joy. To spent uninterrupted time with one of her daughters brought happiness to her heart.

Ulfrde's mandibles formed a Yautja frown as she heard Sally's words. "You should not wait on me, Mother. That is a job for your Aseigan!"

Looking around to insure they were not overheard, Sally retorted, "I know, but I claim a mother's privilege – and also a Matriarch's! So off to bed young lady and I will bring you some food!"

It was only in privacy that her Bearer referred to her as 'young lady'. Ulfrde knew that this, along with an insistence upon feeding her in bed, was an oomanism and she tolerated it out of love for her sometimes quirky Bearer. "Sure, Mom. We'll pretend I'm a pup again!" She spread her mandibles wide and watched Sally head toward the house galley with a little spring in her step. It was good to see her Bearer again and good to be in her care, although such a fact must never become known outside of the two of them. _Fearless Huntress returns from Chiva to Bearers personal care. How many challenges would I have to face over that? _Ulfrde wondered to herself. She obediently headed for the large bed, leaving a neat pile of her worn clothing on the bench at the foot. Before climbing into the lush furs, she paused at the three-way mirror to appreciate the pock marks that now peppered her back and the large depression in the shoulder muscle where Sig'dan had dug out the Hard Meat tail tip. _That will present quite the seductive view, _she decided with satisfaction, and then slipped between the furs. _How will Yrándr be able to withstand that?_ Her tusks clicked happily as she waited for the feast her Bearer would bring and began to think about how she would ensure some time alone with Yrándr.

* * *

Arndís walked with her usual grace and calmness through the thumping, sometimes howling, crowd of overexcited Hunters. She and her sisters had been first to complete their Hunt and that honor was not lost on the mountains of vigor that surrounded the shield of Arbitrators who accompanied her to her quarters. She held herself regally in perfect imitation of her Bearer and pretended to pay no notice to the waves of Hunter musk wafting through the air, the chatter of clicking tusks and loud huffs that trailed in her wake or the Hunters that vainly tried to breach the dark, deadly barricade surrounding her.

Once installed in her apartment, her assigned mate would present himself to her. Not knowing which of the High Council Elders it would be disturbed her usual easy-flowing train of thoughts. It would require an immediate reaction on her part, she realized, if the assigned Elder was not to her liking. Even though she had previously decided, after careful study and review of each of them, that only the Council Leader would really do she had decided to keep an open mind. He was the one she wanted to join her genes with and create new life. There were several others on the Council who wouldn't be a bad match but it was difficult to get enthusiastic about anyone except her mind's chosen. _What will I do if it's not him? What if it's one of the acceptable choices? Oh Paya! What if he's not acceptable at all?_

She tried to hide her inner nervousness as the door to the new dwelling was opened for her. She entered and enjoyed taking a breath of cleaner air – air that was not chewably thick with Hunter tang. To her relief, she scented no one inside. There was no telling when her mate would show up. She had recently bathed and prepared herself back on the Hunt ship, dressing in her finest leathers along with the beautiful jeweled necklace that her ForeSire had purchased for her many cycles ago. It draped from around her protective collar as the fiery stones gleamed against fine skin and sparkled as her breasts heaved with nervous breaths.

_This is foolish! I'm honing my worries needlessly. Find something else to focus on and deal with whoever is your mate when they appear! _She ordered herself to dutifully begin the arrangement of her Hunt trophies on the large wall along with several worthy skulls she had obtained during her training. Proper placement of treasures from the Hunt was one of the courses she had attended prior to her Chiva. There were acknowledged guidelines as to the correct sequence and order of the bones and skulls. It took an artful eye to achieve a pleasing balance and textural variety.

She nearly lost herself in the pleasant task and had just completed placing the last of her Chiva skulls when her door signaled. _He's here! _She willed her stomach back down to its proper place and touched the viewer control to see who stood at the door. Her tusks ground together in distress as the form of an Aseigan appeared. _What the Hel? _

"What do you want?" she spoke through the com.

"My Master wishes to know if you are prepared to receive him." The servant kept his eyes low.

_Well, his Master is either very considerate or…what's that word Mom uses? Wimp, I think. Is he a wimp? A High Elder? NO! He couldn't be. _She replied, "That depends. Who is your Master?"

"The High Elder of the Dor'an."

_What? The Dor'an Elder will mate with someone outside his Clan? Since when? _The blood of challenge raced to her face, and she ripped open the door, foregoing the com, "What kind of a prank is this?"

The Aseigan cowered at her imposing presence, his eyes begging the floor for help as a strong male voice came from behind him. "It was only my way of gently informing you, Honorable Arndís. My servant was following my command to him. I knew that my being your mate would come as a surprise." He assertively pushed his way through the door and stood in the entryway, shutting the heavy door behind him. Arndís took several unexpected steps backward. Taking in the High Elder of the Dor'an Clan, the astonishment combined with disappointment could not be mistaken in her scent, or upon her face. Her tusks went from challenge to droop and then back to challenge again as a low rumble formed in her throat.

"I assert my right, as old as time, to choose my OWN mate, High Elder! My choice is not you!" She filled the hallway with her growled words, her eyes burning bright and dangerous. The High Elder's hand went unconsciously to the weapon at his waist. This was not the Arndís he had been expecting - the nimble, social Arndís who was charmed by his sense of humor, chittering to be mated by an Elder of the High Council.

She raised her face in challenge to him, not the challenge of rut but in the challenge of the fight, as a ferocious roar issued forth from her open jaw-ways. His mandibles dropped in shock as she stomped towards him ready to deliver his demise, her brown eyes sparking out anger. His response was to crouch down to the instinctive posture, stretching his heavy tusks out in full display. Then he answered with a growl that trembled the room and could be heard well outside of the dwelling. The black-armored guardian Arbitrators flashed tusky upper mandible grins at each other and resumed their watch just as an armored Elder Hunter approached the front entry.

Quickly, they tightened their grouping and were about to order him to stop his approach when they recognized him and became completely confused. He stopped in front of them to raise one fist and bounce the other off his massive chest, before roaring his challenges. "Come out and fight me, if you dare! You are not worthy of the Huntress who dwells here! I claim our ancient rite of battle for the privilege of mounting her!"

The Arbitrators stared at each other. Why was he here, making challenge, when he should be with his assigned females? This was definitely out of order and had not been planned for. They looked to their highest ranking for a solution. He assessed the gigantic Elder before him, still strong in body and will and was glad he would not be the one who had to fight him. Even with all his training, to go up against one so experienced in his craft was to invite at least severe injury. It had been some time since he had witnessed a rut fight, and even longer since he had watched a serious battle between two High Elders. This was completely within the law and would be most entertaining to watch. With a nod to the challenger, he motioned his troops aside and assumed the passive stance of an observer.

Inside the dwelling, the mounting aggression between Arndís and the Elder Dor'an Hunter came to a stand-still as they both heard the deep voice from outside. With a snarl, the Hunter sprang from his crouch and rushed outside to deal with the interloper. Ulfrde's heart, stopped by the sound of the well-known tones, resumed beating as she hurriedly followed outside to watch.

_It's HIM, the one I want! How? Why isn't he with his females? _Arndís head spun with questions as she watched her two suitors charge each other in a great clash of rock-solid bodies and light armor. Each of them held a weapon and she knew this fight would be to the death. The very serious business of passing on one's genes was not taken lightly by the Yautja. Anyone who dared to challenge a Dor'an High Council Elder for his right to a female was risking much – even if he was the great and glorious Leader of the High Council. This fight would be for everything: for honor, for your place on the Council and for the continuation of your bloodline - truly, the only things of value to these senior Hunters.

The blaring roars did not last long as the two slammed each other. Arndís nearly flinched at the impact of the huge bodies hitting. She watched her desired one with eager anticipation and the rejected one with wary dislike. The musk of unbridled anger reached her mouth and she tasted just how furious the Council Leader was with his opponent. It made a shiver run down her back at the thought of his passionate demand for her. A demand so strong he had apparently abandoned his other mates to come for her. The thought made her burn deep within. _The epitome of all that I want fights to mate ME!_

* * *

The mountain of flesh that was the Leader of the High Council pounded on the sealed doorways before him. First going to one, he attempted to bash the thick metal in with fists leaving blood glazing its surface. Going to the other door, he kicked at it with one metal sandaled foot until a slight dully scraped area was visible at the bottom. Finally he stood, heaving from exertion, grinding his tusks in aggravation and finally letting the present reality sink in. They had locked him out! The two females that were his by the random choice of the lottery (wisely suggested by the Matriarch) had made their rejection of him plain by sealing their doorways and refusing to answer his calls on their coms. _How dare they, _had been his first thought as he stood, catching his breath from beating up doors. The calmness that always accompanied physicality suddenly washed over him and he began to think. _They are as the females before them – controlling us…rejecting some and accepting others. In fact, it is most fitting. It is apparent…we should not have chosen for them. Who have these two chosen? Without the collision of the sexes, the challenges, the fights…our rutting season is much poorer. How were these two able to select the Hunters that would be the best Sires? Have their sisters done the same? _

He hit his com to contact several other High Elders only to find that one had been taken by surprise and physically thrown out of a dwelling by both his females. Another did not answer so he assumed that one had been successful in gaining acceptance. His always proud shoulders slumped just a minuscule amount as he left the dwelling, his musk daring the Arbitrators to say anything or even take a deep breath as he walked he whirled and glared, his eyes informing them that if he ever heard the tale of this event being told he would deliver them to Cetanu!

He continued to walk away, immersed in deep thought even as his still rising libido competed with his mind for attention. _If I could determine which males my females have selected, I could challenge them. Perhaps I will wait and see if they emerge and watch where they go in search of mates. _He shuddered at the thought of hiding around a corner like a rut-struck pup, waiting to see where the Huntress of his dreams went and who she selected as a mate. All youths played such games and learned as best they could what kind of Hunters attracted the females. Out of nowhere the image of Arndís jumped into the vision of his mind. _What choice has she made? She is worthy of me…worth fighting for! She was most coy with me during the training. _He remembered her usual unflirtatious behavior changing whenever she was near him.

The watching Arbitrators outside the dwelling of the Hunter's rejection were disbanding and preparing to return to the Hall of Arbitrators when one of them drew the group's attention to the street to see the Leader of the High Elders leave and begin running as fast as they had seen any Hunter run. The breeze brought back the scent of his musk to them and they read the molecules of aggression and lust. They looked at each other in confusion. Why was he leaving? Was it possible the females had denied him? The sound of his fists and feet on the doors had been long and loud.

"Perhaps we should alert the masses," one joked. "Anyone who crosses him is in for the beating of his life."

"He is running in the direction of our travel," another noted, "Let us follow him and perhaps we will be entertained." The troop piled in to several hovercrafts and maneuvered down the avenue trailing the High Elder at a discrete distance. They took another track however, when the Elder, completely alert to their presence, stood in the middle of the parkway with his hands on his hips in wait for them, obviously ready to challenge them one-by-one if necessary. The hovercrafts abruptly turned down another roadway and the High Elder resumed his run towards the dwelling of Arndís which he had located using his com. He ran up to the guardian Arbitrators there, his body language rife with menace and soon blared out his challenge to the Hunter within her walls. His barks were answered with heavy footfall as the Hunter appeared, quite ready for the fight. _He will soon be as the dust! And here is Arndís to witness my victory. She will know that I alone am worthy to Sire her pup!_

The circling was short-lived as the two magnificent Hunters crashed, made mindless with rage and rut. Each was in their prime. The massive High Council Leader, with a chest practically as broad as two of his brethren, and the more refined, muscled yet wiry, Dor'an High Elder. Arndís watched in wonder as their eyes glazed over and the brawl continued, not the elegant fighting form of Hunters engaged in jehdin-jehdin, but the bone-crushing, head-pummeling movements driven by the base desire to destroy the opponent and insure his Bloodline was ended. The Dor'an Elder was quick and spry. His battles were often won because he was faster and outmaneuvered his opponent. But in this fight, his sensibilities had left him and he joined the Leader in the time-honored Yautja tactic of trying to bash your competitor's brains out. The brawl was quickly ended as a massive downward crush from the swinging hammer-fist of the Leader drove the Dor'an Elder into blissful unconsciousness. Without a glance at the fallen, the Leader turned to Arndís, engulfing her in his glaze which immediately switched from the single-mindedness of battle to all-encompassing focus on planting himself within her.

He stood, gasping for air from violently beating the Dor'an, and waited for her to approach. She stood and stared back at him in a long teasing eye-lock as new eddies of her scent perfumed the air. She huffed-in his decisive maleness several times and then strode up to him with deliberation. Her walk was precise, designed to draw out the pleasurable agony of courtship. He watched her well-formed legs take each step; her hips making the soft leather draped from them sway gently. Her waist, small and tight, rhythmically driven with every step powered by her generously spaced hips. High and tight breasts caused the soft leather of her draping top to softly curve outward and a strand of jewels beckoned from her cleavage. The graceful neck led upwards to her aristocratic face where high cheekbones were underlain with a set of fine feminine mandibles. Each one graced by a delicate pure, white tusk above which a set of blazing eyes threatened to feast on him alive. Her softly ridged crown was high with excitement as the bases of her thick black locks erected themselves over the gentle ridges of her generous forehead. All in all, she was a true Yautja beauty to feast one's eyes upon who was also tall for her young age which placed her at the same height as the Dor'an who still snoozed comfortably on the ground. She came up to mid-chest on the Elder and he remembered that he needed to be somewhat careful with her this first time.

Her dominant hand reached out to plant firmly upon the rock of his mid-chest as a soft growl came from between her petite fangs. "I thank Paya that you are here. You are my first choice above all others." She tilted her head and peered seductively at him, releasing a new volley of want from her well-situated musk glands which were now on over-drive. Hitting him again, this time with greater intent, she said loudly, "As in cycles past, I proudly claim this male as mine. I claim him before you all as the witnesses of my claim!"

_So she is a traditionalist after all, _a rational thought cut through his desires. His reply came in the form of lightning as she suddenly found her wrists bound by cuffs of flesh and her body spun and bent forward, her cloth ripped from his hips and his immense warmth curved over her. "You did not even ask to see my trophies," he rumbled gently into her hearing.

"There was no need," she gasped, feeling his hot hardness prodding at her. His next words came loudly for all the witnessing Arbitrators he spoke the traditional response, "You are beautiful and most honorable, my Arndís. My desire will be completed within you." As he boomed this last, she felt his prods turn into a full thrust entering her body. Her flesh welcomed him, even as he stretched out and broke into the untouched part of her body. A flash of pain seared for only a moment while her partner thoughtfully stayed still. When he felt her begin to breathe again he began thrusting and was soon gliding in and out of her in conjoined ecstasy. Mutual grunts and growls joined slapping, wet nuances and as her inner muscles tightened around him, he drove deeper with shorter strokes. Suddenly it came – his large head was trapped within her clamping tunnel as she writhed and convulsed to pull all the seed from him. His accompanying bay of pleasure as he filled her with surges of eager liquid only stopped when he bent to sink massive tusks into the pliant flesh of her virgin back. Her blood oozed up around his tusks while his tongue played, lapping up the life spilled from her. He released his bite and surveyed the superior wideness of his marks. Surely any Hunter would think twice about challenging him in the future should she beckon him again. He felt her inner spasms die down and the moisture seep from around his base still buried inside her. Growling his admiration of her, he began again.

The group of witnesses had grown, as the Arbitrators following the High Council Leader had circled, resuming their search and finding him. Other Hunters, attracted by the scent and noise had also joined the crowd. The fight had been short, but spectacular, the observers agreed and watching such a well-earned rut was an honorable experience for all of them – not to mention fuel with which to ease their frustrations in the middle of the night. The sun was in the sky, Yautja males had fought and the winner was now involved in enthusiastically seeding the female who had accepted him, and all had happened under the public eye. All was right on Yaut.


	10. Chapter Nine: Round and Round We Go

**A/N: For those who are wondering what is happening with Myn'dill – it is contained within the pages of the story Forbidden Fruit, as is the story of how Signý gains her mate.**

**Chapter Nine: Round and Round We Go**

_I chose and my world was shaken. So what? The choice may have been mistaken; the choosing was not. -__Stephen Sondheim_

Sally bustled around the galley, stacking delicacies on a serving tray. Her servants kept presenting her with foodstuffs from which she selected those she thought would appeal to her recovering daughter. They chattered lightly when it appeared that she would deliver the tray herself but wise to her alien ways, they stood aside and let her act as servant to her Bloodline female. The tray was heavy with food and the elderly Matriarch fought to not appear overburdened as she carefully walked from the galley to the guest room. A wise and bolder Aseigan hurried to aid her and hoisted the tray from her grasp without saying a word. She stopped and looked him in the eye before giving a nod of permission. He followed her to the room's door where she stopped and held out her hands. Gently he delivered the load back to her and stood alert for any assistance she might need until the door closed behind her. Then he went back to work with his fellows.

"Our Mistress grows old, I fear," said one of the newer servants. He was chuffed at by the Aseigan who had helped Sally with the tray, "Our Matriarch rules with wisdom that grows each cycle and with the strength of her Honor." He glared at the newcomer who suddenly found that polishing the stone table was of utmost importance.

Ulfrde pulled herself up in the bed, resting her back against the stone wall. The injured shoulder complained at the movement but the wound stayed closed. She watched as her mother carried a heavily loaded tray of food and placed it on a table by the bedside. "Here now, I've brought you some of you favorites. Enjoy!"

The Huntress began inhaling the delicious strips of meat, only stopping to occasionally chug water from a large flask. Sally watched with a mother's satisfaction as her daughter thoroughly enjoyed the meal. It was amazing how much an adult Yautja female could put away! When Ulfrde had finished there was not a trace of anything left on the tray. She made a sound of contentment and let herself slouch down the wall into the furs. "That was superb, Mom! Thanks. Now, tell me what you've been doing and I'll tell you about my hunt."

"Let's see," Sally began, "Lots of boring official stuff with the High Council, walking in the garden, inspecting the new pups…you know, the usual. Nothing as exciting as your Chiva! Now tell me every detail!"

Ulfrde chortled at her mother's description of her life but was thrilled to be able to begin the tale of her Hunt. In great detail she explained to her enthralled Bearer the entire experience. Sally listened intently, going on Chiva herself vicariously through her daughter's recounting. The Matriarch nearly jumped when Ulfrde dramatically told her of being pinned through the shoulder by the Hard Meat tail.

When the telling was finished Sally sat there, wordlessly staring at her daughter as though just seeing her for the first time. The expression on her face made Ulfrde nervous. "Mom? What is wrong?"

"Nothing. And everything," she smiled. "I was just remembering how I sat you on my lap and sang to you about how little you were when you were a newborn pup. It is just amazing comparing that picture of you in my mind with the fully grown you sitting here right now." A wistful look came over the woman's face.

"In private I'll always be your pup, Mom," the Huntress softly rolled the words back to her mother.

_How sweet of her, _Sally thought. "Yes you will - always." She went over to her sitting daughter and placed her arms around the female's robust shoulders. She whispered to the female, "Somewhere inside this incredibly strong and amazing Huntress is my wee pup. I just miss you being a baby sometimes. But I'd never trade the wonderful adult that you have become for the youngling you once were."

Ulfrde felt conflicted at this moment. On one claw, she warmed to her Bearer's adoration but on another claw, it was uncomfortable to go from newly Blooded to wee pup in a single sentence. She thanked her mother for the strange complement and then turned the subject to other things. "Mom, do you know who I'm to be matched with for the breeding season?"

Her mother looked taken aback by the question. "I do." It was difficult to reconcile the picture of the small pup in her mind with the current adult in front of her who was ready to rut.

It became apparent to the Huntress that was all her Bearer was going to say about it, so she pressed further, "Mom, who is it?"

"An Elder of the High Council."

"MOM! Who is it?" The impatient growl died between her tusks as she saw her mother's jaw tremble slightly. Ulfrde bowed her head in submission. "I'm sorry, Mom. What I should have said is that I would appreciate it if you would tell me who it is."

"It's okay. That's…that's just the first time you've ever yelled in anger at me."

Ulfrde's face burned with humiliation and she kept looking down at her lap. Her mother reached and tried to tip the downward chin up – it wouldn't budge. "Please look at me, Ulfrde," came the gentle order. The Huntress lifted the reluctant chin and looked at Sally, her sadness reflected out from the brown expressive eyes to her mother.

"Each Elder has asked that he be allowed to reveal himself when the time comes. So, you see, I'm not at liberty to tell you who it is, and you've already told me that you don't want him. So what does it matter?"

"It doesn't. I'm just curious."

"You told me that you wanted to make the choice yourself. Have you chosen someone?"

"I have, Mom. I've even told him."

"What did he say?" Sally sat down again, waiting for her daughter to answer.

"He rejected me!"

"What? How could he?" Sally's voice rose in biased protest that anyone would be capable of turning down her daughter.

"Reject isn't really the right word. He knows that I am promised to a High Elder. He said that if I will make my choice of him in public, per our tradition, that he will fight the High Elder properly for me."

"OH MY!"

"So I guess he's interested," Ulfrde's tusks drooped in a pout.

"I wouldn't say that, Ulfrde."

Her daughter's tusks lifted and she sat bolt upright. "What do you mean?"

"I would say that he wants you quite badly to be willing to fight a High Elder for you. That fight might not go well for him at all. You've seen how large and skillful the High Elders are. Do you want the Hunter you desire to be crushed by one of them? He could die, or be maimed for life and you would end up having to go with the Elder anyway!"

"Sei," Ulfrde replied gloomily, "I know what you say is true, Mom – but he is strong and skillful in his own right. He would stand a chance."

"Have you thought of this? If he wins, he'll probably have to kill the High Elder. That will mean he gains his place on the Council. Does he have the talent, the skills to assume that position? Would he even WANT to sit on the Council?"

"I do not know, Mom. There was not time to talk with him about these things. I only let him know that he was the one I would choose. What should I do?" The large liquid eyes begged for an answer.

Sally thought for a few moments. Would it be wrong for her to use her position to request an audience with this Hunter and have Ulfrde present? Who was he that she might request to see him?

"What is his name? Do I know him?"

"It's Yrándr, Mom. You know. Your guard, Yang."

Sally's eyebrows went straight up. "Yang? My house guard, Yang? The Yang who helped train you?"

"That is the one, Mom!" Ulfrde shrugged her shoulders, indicating her helplessness to fight her attraction.

"Well, I'll be." An old earth adage about love being blind suddenly popped into her mind. "I am surprised. Yang is a very Honorable Hunter, of that there is no doubt. But I had never thought of you…pairing with him." The visage of her guard, huge and powerful but with a strong streak of plainness, appeared in her thoughts.

"He is very large, isn't he?"

"Yes, and quite skilled. But could he take on the Honorable High Elder of the Hal'tam-ti Clan?" _Crap! I just revealed who he is!_

"Ah! Him? He's the one I'm to be paired with?"

"Yes. What do you think of him, honey?" Sally called her a sweet Blue Planet term she had not used in scores of cycles.

"He…he…is serious. Serious and old."

Sally laughed, "That he is. But he's still in his prime and not yet an Ancient. Don't you think he would Sire a good pup?"

"He probably would. But, it is just that…I do not want him! When has he spoken with me? Or cared for my safety? I do not even know him! He was not among our Trainers. I want Yrándr!"

"I understand, Ulfrde. Really I DO! But in purity, what you are experiencing seems very human to me. Back on Earth, humans seek out desirable mates through relationships, not just breeding potential. It sounds to me like your human side is coming through, dear."

Ulfrde sat up in shock. Almost sputtering, she spoke, "But I AM half human! I will not lie about what I think or what I feel! And according to what you have told me – that is the Yautja part of me!"

"I'm not asking you to lie," Sally stated calmly, ignoring the insult. "I'm just trying to explain to you what I think is happening. I think it is important for you to try and understand it."

"Well, I looked at all the records and I saw that the Council Elders are all capable of siring healthy, strong pups. If I only go by that, well any of them would do. But that is not what I want. I have…feelings for Yrándr. I even dream about him, Mom!"

"Yes, this is very human indeed. And it is not wrong, Ulfrde, just human. But I do not know how the High Council will see it. I think we need some impartial advice here. I am your Bearer and my sight is slanted towards you. I believe we need to hear the words of someone who is wise."

"Your Consort? I mean, my ForeSire?"

"He is wise, but his opinion of you is as slanted as my own!" Sally chuckled. "I think we could safely confide in Healer Myn'dill and seek his opinion. Let me contact him." She punched a few commands into her wrist com and waited. No answer came, only the Healer's automated message system. She left instructions for him to call her as soon as possible.

"So, now we wait! We have several cycles, I think, for your wound to heal. Let us put this time to good use."

They waited all that cycle for Myn'dill to call. When it became late, Sally began to worry. _Is something wrong? My Healer has never failed to respond to my call before. I'll call Sig-dan. He may know something. _Again she punched at the com and in a few moments the well-known voice answered, "Yes, Sal'lee."

"Sig-dan! I cannot reach Myn-dill! Is something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong. Do you have need of a Healer?" Concerned filled his voice.

"No. I just needed his advice on something."

"May I help you? He is…busy right now."

"He is? I always thought he turned in rather early. Is he conducting a new experiment?" Her curiosity arose as her beloved stifled a chortle on his end of the com.

"One might call it that. He is…not at home."

"Well where is he? I have a right to know! I mean, what if Ulfrde requires him?"

"I am capable of taking care of any healing your daughter needs until Myn'dill returns."

"You aren't going to tell me are you?" Sally was beginning to feel put off by Sig'dan's run around.

"It might cause problems if you knew."

"Oh God, is he doing something dishonorable?"

"Uh, no. Just risky and perhaps ill-advised. But I really can not blame him. The offer was there. There was no one to challenge him."

"Oh My God! He's mating! Who with?"

"Signý."

"This entire thing is going to Hel," muttered the Matriarch. "Never mind, Sig-dan. I will, ah, talk with him another time." She cut the com and addressed her daughter, "I think we're on our own on this one. I am going to go with my gut here."

"What?" asked confused Ulfrde who had never heard her mother talk about doing anything with her innards before.

Sally punched her com again and a deep rolling rumble came from her wrist, "Sei, Honorable Matree-ark."

"Come to the guest room. I must speak with you."

Nothing but silence answered her. "Understand?" Sally asked.

"Sei," replied the rumble.

The floor vibrated as the large footfalls of the Elite Guard crossed the Matriarch's hallway and stood in front of the doorway to the guest quarters. Yrándr knew who was ensconced within. Reluctantly he signaled his presence. "Enter," came the voice of the Matriarch and he went in. There on the bed furs reclined Ulfrde, her pleasingly curved and sexily strong legs bare. The furs had been carefully arranged to cover her most private areas, but the revealed parts were enough to judge her gorgeous strength by.

He dropped his eyes to the Matriarch in submission and waited for her command. "My daughter will interpret for me," she said, and Ulfrde did so. Still he waited with eyes to the floor for her to continue.

"My daughter has informed me of her offer to you, and your answer to her."

_The Matriarch knows! _He tensed at the idea. _Is she angry?_

"I have questions for you. First, do you realize that you may have to kill a High Council Elder for the right to my daughter?"

"I do," was his quiet answer.

"Then you are prepared to take his place on the High Council?"

The guard's craggy brow wrinkled and two telltale tusks scraped together. "I…I know this is true, Honorable Matriarch, but I had not thought that far."

"I see. Do you believe yourself to possess the skills to serve on the Council?"

"In purity, I do not know." His head bowed lower.

"I require the wisdom and advice of the High Council to assist my decisions. It is important to us all that only the best serve there."

"I would do nothing that would not serve Yaut," he answered in simple honesty.

"You are an Honorable Hunter and an excellent Guard. You have served me and my house for many, many cycles. Your service has been excellent and is most valuable to me. Tell me, do you desire to mate Ulfrde?"

"Of course," was his immediate reply.

"Why?"

"She offered herself to me."

"And if she had not?"

"She is a most beautiful and desirable mate."

"Do you know why she chose you?"

The Hunter looked puzzled as though he had not asked himself such a question before. "No, I do not."

"She has given me permission to speak on her behalf. She has emotions regarding you. She knows you and has spent time with you. She has studied your records, as well as the records of those on the High Council. She chose you because she knows you."

Yrándr looked up at Ulfrde. "May I speak?" Sally nodded. He began to address Ulfrde, "You did not choose me because you regarded my record more highly then the Council Elders?"

"Why no! Few Hunters are as aged as they. They have so many cycles behind them that their deeds are considerable."

"Are they not the best then?" The Hunter looked truly confused.

"NO!" the Huntress growled. "If you and they were all of the same age, I am certain that your records would be equal. How does the fact they are all old and have done great deeds make their genetic material any better than yours? You have done great things, just not as many!"

Yrándr considered her words before he spoke. They did make a certain sense. _She is missing something. _His brow knitted even tighter as he concentrated. The Matriarch interrupted his focus, "May I speak, now?"

He nodded; surprised that she had asked permission.

"I see your point, Ulfrde – HOWEVER, the fact that the High Elders have lived so long is also a testament to their greatness. They have overcome all challengers to this point. This Hunter, as great as he is, has not met all the challenges that are to come his way. He may overcome them, or he may die. He has not yet proved his worth in the same way as the High Elders have."

Ulfrde was silent as Yrándr nodded his great head in agreement with the words that she had so reluctantly interpreted for his benefit. She had now heard the words twice. Once, when her mother had said them and then again from her own mouth as she translated them for Yrándr. There was no obvious hole in her mother's logic and yet it did not agree with her heart.

The Matriarch turned to her daughter, "Ulfrde, what do you think of all this?"

"I...I see the truth in your words, Honorable Matriarch." Ulfrde slowly turned to Yrándr, "I withdraw my offer, Honorable Hunter. Indeed, know that it is you whom I desire, but I must do what is best for all of us."

"You are most Honorable beautiful Ulfrde. I am most honored to have been under your consideration." He bowed to both of them and then with Sally's permission, left.

Ulfrde could have burst into tears if she had formed any tear ducts. Instead, a kind of wailing sob left her mouth. "Mom! Help me!" Sally closed the gap between them and found a facsimile of her tiny pup within the grown Huntress that was asking for her help. "I am so confused! I understand all that you said, all that he said – and it makes sense. But my feelings make NO sense!"

"Feelings often don't honey." Sally patted the broad back. "I think purebred Yautja have feelings too, but things are different for them. They were…raised differently than you were. I fear that this is my fault. I was…too human around you and your sisters when you were little." Tears formed in the Matriarch's eyes. "I'm so sorry, honey. You love him. Love is a human feeling. Sometimes it just happens – with no logic to it. But you are a Yautja Huntress – a regal and majestic female! Your pup must be a positive addition to the race, so you have to go out and find the very best Sire for it. That is why we picked someone on the High Council for you, honey. They ARE the best."

"So…my real Sire wasn't the best? Could you have had anyone on the High Council? Why did you not pick them?"

"I do have their pups, Ulfrde! All of your other sisters except Arndís and Signý were sired by them. I have you and Arndís at my request, and the Council said that Ulfr was "one of their best in every way". I remember it as clearly as if it happened this cycle."

"So…by logic my sisters must be better than Arndís or me." It was Sally's turn to show surprise. "But they are not, Mom! We are the best in nearly every contest! Our group was the first to complete our Chiva! Arndís and I do not carry the Bloodline of any member of the High Council – yet WE ARE THE BEST!" Her growl reverberated through the room. "How do you explain that?"

Sally was speechless. Ulfrde had turned the very logic that she had learned by heart since she began understanding this culture and turned it on its head. There was no argument – Arndís and Ulfrde were the best. What could she say now?

"I am certain that if your father, Ulfr, had lived, he would have attained the High Council. His life was cut short by that horrible disease. It was not fair."

"Many things are not fair!" rumbled Ulfrde. "How do you know that Yrándr will not eventually reach the High Council?"

"I don't, Ulfrde. But neither do you! I knew your father very well!"

"But you are not an oracle. No one is in this current age. No one can see the future of another."

"Exactly, dear." Her mother looked tired as she spoke. "So the safest practice is to acknowledge that those on the Council HAVE proved themselves. You know the ways of Yaut are ancient, and at times even I have questioned them. But I always find out that things are the way they are for a good reason. I asked the Council to favor me by fertilizing two of my ova with your father's seed. They granted me my wish and you are here because of it. The fact that you are the best is wonderful, but my desire for your father was a human thing – very emotional. I did not think about what the qualities of my offspring would be. By Yautja standards, I was quite careless."

"I see. So I am to go ahead and agree to rut with someone I do not care about – just to make pups that might be the best someday."

"That's the idea."

"It sucks. What am I supposed to do with all my feelings for Yrándr?"

_Sucks? Where did she pick up that word? _"Well, could you spend time with him? Get to know him better? You know, develop a relationship? Perhaps in the future, you can lobby for your cause – to select your own mate."

_Lobby? No, I prefer to fight!_ A gleam came into Ulfrde's eye as she saw the path she would pursue. "First Mom, I must heal."

The cycles went by quickly for Ulfrde. Myn'dill or Sig'dan came daily to check her progress. The powerful Yautja medications speeded her body's naturally quick healing ability. The large wound scabbed over and eventually the scab left, revealing a triangular whitish scar that would forever advertise where the Hard Meat tail had entered. Along with the plethora of acid marks it was proof to all of the greatness of her deeds. She couldn't imagine how many signatures of the Hunt her body would eventually carry. Although she realized her destiny was to bear pups to continue to replenish the female population, she also hoped that she would still be able to participate in the Hunt on occasion. It would be horrible she realized when Sally gave them their first reproduction lecture, to never hunt again. There were old stories about rare females who enjoyed the Hunt so much that they forsook the rut so as not to become tied to the Homeworld or a Clan ship during pregnancy and pup-rearing. Ulfrde remembered such a female from an ancient tale told after a meal by her uncle, Honorable Sig'dan. That female had ended up forsaken on an alien world and was never able to return to her Clan again. The story had made an impact on young Ulfrde and although she dearly loved to hunt, she knew that new females were needed for the salvation of Yaut and she would sooner die than abandon her duty. However, she also was a strong individualist and proud of her heritage as a female.

Yrándr was left in peace during the cycles of her healing which surprised him. In spite of her words that she had withdrawn her offer of submission to him, he had expected the Huntress, renown for her assertiveness, to continue to try and convince him to breed her. When she completely ignored him, he felt both relief and disappointment. He considered that her Bearer had successfully influenced her to release him.

No one knew the Huntress Ulfrde better than her mother and Sally was wary of what she suspected her daughter might be planning. In spite of the heart to heart talk, it was highly unusual for Ulfrde to give up on something she wanted. And the human woman was well acquainted with the power of sexuality both in people and in Yautja. Yet, she also knew her daughter to be proud of her Honor and devoted to Yautja ideals. That her ForeSire was an Arbitrator who brought the dishonorable to justice had been a powerful influence upon her.

The morning came when Myn'dill examined Ulfrde and pronounced her healed. She was ready to meet her suitor. The Healer informed the High Council Elder that his mate was fully recovered, while Ulfrde packed her bag and made ready to leave the Matriarch's guest quarters and be escorted to her own adult dwelling. She did not know the location or condition of any of her sisters, but knew that the breeding season lasted many cycles until the females were pregnant. Eventually, the lucky Hunters would emerge from their rooms or the rooms of the female or females they had been mating. Although the rut might have begun in public, eventually it would retreat to the dwelling of either the Hunter or the female. With deep exhaustion evident on their faces and bodies, the Hunters would head for the nearest public soak to steep and recover. Then, after a large meal in one of the common eating halls, they would return to their own quarters and sleep for two or even three cycles. Back in their dwellings, the females would also bathe, eat and sleep before heading to the nearest Healer to confirm their health and state. Only rarely was a Hunter called back to complete his 'unfinished work'.

Ulfrde left her escorts and cautiously entered her apartment. She wore a fine set of black leathers, along with her Hunt armor. Telling her Bearer that she wished to appear to her mate as the desirable Huntress that she knew her reputation to be, she had put on her 'awu'asa', instead of appearing without it as was the custom. So she entered her new quarters as fully dressed as if she were going again to her Chiva. Her attire was not lost on the Arbitrators who accompanied her home. They quietly huffed her scent and one even clicked at her. She ignored them, focused only on meeting her first mate.

The entryway lit up when the house sensed her presence. She crouched slightly, huffing for scent and as soon as the door was sealed, put on the mask she carried. Flipping through all the settings, she searched for him as she crept through the house keen on his scent trail.

The odor led to her bedroom. She stood back from the open doorway checking as much of the room as she could view and then set her mask to detect any heat signatures though the substantial walls. Finally, she found what she was looking for. Standing near the head of her bed was an extremely large pillar of warmth. It blazed white near the center and changed to more red and orange tones toward the edges of a body. She could not detect any details that showed weapons, only a basic shape with a few scattered cooler small areas. One she could see was a belt girding the hips, another was his wrist com. Concentrating on the waist she was uncertain if the pillar carried any blades. _You search needlessly! There are enough blades on your body to share if honor demands, _she thought. Then with her most imposing posture, she entered the room with a deep growl that conveyed an unmistakable challenge.

The High Elder of the Hal'tam-ti Clan had known from the beginning that the female selected for him might be a most worthwhile mate. Her skills were already spoken of by many and her powerful body was enough to make drool run from between any Hunter's fangs. When her name was drawn for his rut partner, he thanked Paya for her blessing. Now, he regarded her carefully. She had chosen to present herself in full 'awu'asa'. Few females would think of such a thing but with Ulfrde's growing reputation – it seemed fitting. She was most appealing with her strong thighs emerging from slits in the metal-banded leather. The bulging musculature led downward to where dark greaves protected her shapely shins. They were laced on with crisscrossing strips of the strongest and finest material known to the Yautja – a substance known as dlex.

When he had finished assessing her legs, his eyes traveled upward. She was carrying blades, he realized, spying several at her waist. The metal encircled her hips, letting her paler, tight belly remain bare. Clothing that spanned the waist was a barrier to the twisting motions required in serious battle or Hunt. Metal strips again clothed the cloth that secured her breasts, the metal rounding her ripeness and enhancing what Paya had given her. Broad, smooth shoulders emerged on each side and sprouted spotted arms of immense strength in spite of their more feminine circumference. Her metal-banded neck held a regally strong face high. Hers was not the finest female face and certainly not the plainest. It conveyed strength. Her mandibles, larger than her sister's, ended in well-shaped small tusks of purest white. Her chin, much more demure than the Hunters had a suggestion of a cleft – bequeathed from her Sire. Her dark locks, already set with many honor rings, framed the swept-back crown edged with mild ridges. She was most beautiful, even when crouched down with side-jaws and mouth open in full blown challenge.

"You wish to fight me? I have not felt the flatness of your palm," he stated with a chortle. If she wanted a little rough foreplay, who was he to deny her? It would be quite stimulating!

"I challenge you!" she roared. "I challenge you for the right to mate me!"

His amused look continued, "Honorable Ulfrde, if I win I will mate with you. This I understand. But if you should win – how will you impregnate yourself?"

She almost sneered in response, "When I win, I will win the right to choose my mate for myself! As did our Matriarchs of recent past. Or have you already forgotten?"

"Your rudeness is spoken of by many," he retorted. "I observe that they spoke generously of you."

"Fight me if you dare!" she growled back. "Or have you grown old and soft sitting in your High Council chair?"

Her comment snapped the last of the Elder's patience with her and he quickly took a combat stance, stretching out his massive arms which ended in open, bare hands. She made to throw him a blade, for to fight the unarmed with weapons was considered a disgrace. He met the flying sharpness with the side of his hand and bounced it to the wall where it clattered on to the floor. Then he chattered and chuffed as one would reprimand a pup. The sounds made her crown rise higher in anger. It was obvious to her that this puffed up oldster considered himself more than her match even bare-handed.

Arching his nimble back and jutting his head forward, he raised his deep rumble to a growling howl of confrontation. Refusing to be taken aback by his display, Ulfrde mimicked his posture and emitted her own deep roar. Then she sprinted up to him, hopped up to gain height and gave a sharp smack to his shoulder. She stalled almost in mid-air for a micro-second. Her hand stung as though she had hit a rock and the Elder had not moved at all! A mist of uncertainty shaded her vision but in the time it took for her to return to the floor – it was gone. Instead, the glare of righteous anger beamed out at the Elder. But he had observed the flash of insecurity that for less than a moment had fogged her view. In earlier years he had schooled many a brash Hunter or Huntress and understood how wisdom came about. If there existed a doubt in this female's mind about what she was doing, it was a doubt he could work with.

After learning she was to be paired with him via drawing lots, the High Elder had studied her. He learned of her accomplishments in training, her ability to concentrate in spite of great pain along with her victories as well as the reports of her short-comings. Her potential was enormous, perhaps as large as her temper. As he circled her, evaluating her slightest movement, her centered mastery of motion confirmed that she was worth taking his time with.


	11. Chapter Ten: Giving In, Getting Out

**A/N: There is a little experiment in this chapter. Thanks to all who review after they read. It is truly appreciated and helps keep me inspired!**

**Chapter Ten: Giving In, Getting Out**

"_But when a woman decides to sleep with a man, there is no wall she will not scale, no fortress she will not destroy, no moral consideration she will not ignore at its very root: there is no God worth worrying about."__  
__―__Gabriel Garcí a Márquez__,__Love in the Time of Cholera_

Ulfrde circled with the High Elder, every molecule of her being intent on finding an opening. Everyone, no matter how skilled, has a weakness the Trainer Theron had taught her. 'Be patient and find it.' Her determination to win against this vastly experienced and larger Hunter held no room for any other possibility to exist in her mind. As they rounded the floor, her mind held no appreciation for the extreme specimen of Yautja Hunter facing her, only the vigilant search for anything to exploit with an attack. The Elder, feeling her intensity, knew that the slightest detection of any waver in his focus or slightest tremble in his balance would pull the trigger on the formidable female weapon confronting him. As eager as he was to fight her, he was also extremely interested in how she moved and how she evaluated him. That she had been schooled by some of Yaut's best was evident, just as was the fact that she belonged to the lineage of the great Aldúlfr, as passed through his deceased Honored offspring, Ulfr. In the past, the great Elder had sparred with both of them and knew each one's style well. So now he watched every moment of this offspring of some of the kehrite's most formidable combatants.

After evaluating Ulfrde to his satisfaction, he deliberately turned his thoughts to breeding her which accomplished two things. She immediately read the lack of concentration in both his eyes and in his body, plus she dove her body through the thick con-trail of his mating musk to deliver the first blow. The novice breeding female had never experienced the full capacity of an Elder's scent before. As the High Elder easily moved away from her attempted hit, she skidded to a stop, riding her breast plates across the smooth floor. With a howl of dismay she jumped up, spinning around to face him again. She could not help but notice the thick, almost piquant taste and odor in her mouth. It was not particularly pleasant, but her body rapidly reacted to the barrage of hormones.

Her pupils dilated, her pulse quickened and blood surged to fill her mandibles, breasts and groin. The extra blood flow warmed those areas, sensitizing them for breeding. All of Ulfrde's determination to win was no competition for what her body demanded – now! She was caught in the cross-fire between the desires of her ego and the urgent commands given by the deepest part of her awareness. The hormones of rut, being nearly as old as time, were not to be ignored. Her loss of concentration was obvious to the Elder and he knew the reason for her detour. As his intended stood there, conducting her inner spar, he threw down his blade, signaling forfeit. Through the haze of her conflict, she witnessed his action and growled, "Why?"

"I will not force any female to bend to me," he said. "What you demand is already rightfully yours. Go and make claim upon the Hunter you wish to mate!" Another volley of powerful chemical weaponry accompanied the cunning Elder's words and Ulfrde found she could not speak. She had become a creature of need – a profound, dominant need that was as old as the planet. Her primal drive had emerged in full force and run all of her reason through with its powerful spear. No voice in her head objected to this alluring Hunter who was now the most desirable male she could imagine. Her body vibrated with eagerness to submit to him. Her deepest regions cried out for his flesh and gushed with moisture to prepare for his intrusion.

She huffed him in, in great breaths, as she placed her sturdy hand on his mid-chest and pushed with all her might. It was as solid an invitation as he had experienced in many, many long cycles. With glowing eyes, he clasped her to himself, surrounding her face with massive mandibles.

The pressure on the sides of her jaws made Ulfrde nearly swoon. The Hunter took advantage of her lapse to release his metal collar. This female was still small, although delightfully large and strong for her age, and he was going to take the most enjoyment possible from his mating of her. He released her face and instinctively she nipped at him, grazing his neck with her fangs. The feel of her sharp ivory mouth daggers, along with her hot breath made him quiver for a moment and he delayed turning her in order to delight more in this play first. They traded face holds and nips for a time – the bites growing bolder as each one tested the others tolerance. The High Elder was in ecstasy as Ulfrde allowed him to draw blood on her and she went from nipping to plunging her much smaller tusks and incisors into his hide. The neck was his most vulnerable place, kept secure behind metal nearly all the time. When Ulfrde attained her fully grown magnificence, few Hunters who valued their life's blood would allow her to do what she presently did to the High Elder.

She was panting now. Her need for him to enter was overwhelming and her musk enriched the air around them. "Shed your armor," he growled, and she obeyed. Within a few heartbeats she stood before him clad only in simple leather which he shredded in a matter of moments, leaving her naked. He dropped his own cloth, rumbling to the air over her head, "There is much I need from you."

There was no attempt to fight him as he seized her shaking body, turned her around and then bent her so far forward that her locks dragged the floor. Huge palms and forearms immobilized her hands and feet together and she nearly melted at the feel of his hot breath against her backside. Curving them both, he had positioned himself so as to acquire her scent directly from its source. While gorging his olfactory with her perfume, his member rose in revelry and pulsed eagerly for him to get on with it. His senses finally filled, he untangled from her and held her simply bent over, with arms pinned behind in the primal hold. Listening to her growls of impatience, his member goaded about to gain admission and then pushed inside in powerful jolts until he could shove no more. Knowing it would be painful the first time, he offered the mercy of quickness in his entry.

Ulfrde almost clamped down as the hard hot hammer intruded. She had no control over its admission, and would not voice her discomfort. Instead, she tried to wiggle free but was held immobile by powerful arms. She was the vessel of his conquest and, at the moment, completely in his control. When he was finally immersed in the warmth of her, his thoughts left also and he gave over to his most primitive urgings. Deep and fast, he went - banging into her, showing no mercy to the groans which were turning to gasps of pleasure. He watched himself enter and withdraw his invading flesh which glistened with her wetness – each vein bulging its rapture. His head grew larger and larger as she closed down upon him until her muscles captured his engorgement, allowing him only to root forward into her until, with a drawn out groan of pleasure, she peaked. Her muscles rippled in time to her moans, each ripple running his length. It was time. A profound roaring bellow signaled his finish even as strong spasms sent his seed into her depth. His cry died down and he bent over her to sink thick tusks into the flesh of her back, grunting and thrusting as he did so. Then he stood leaning over her, his leg muscles fully tensed, his pelvis shoved forward, her body pulled back onto his – until the seeding was finished. It was only when she relaxed, only when her clasping was fully satisfied that she would allow his now entrapped head to return to its normal size and permit withdrawal.

He waited patiently, releasing another round of his scent. As it reached her mouth, Ulfrde gasped and felt her insides call to him. She responded with her own perfume of readiness which caused his member to rally. While still inside of her, he felt the fit snug around him with her growing excitement. Grasping both her wrists with a single hand, he reached around her with the other and drew his palm across her breasts. Immediately, he felt the surge of her fluid surround his member and he began again. He decided to go slower this time, savoring building towards that place of no return.

Neither Ulfrde nor the High Elder counted the number of times they coupled. Eventually, overcome with exhaustion and dehydration, they fell apart. The Hunter carried the Huntress to her bed and deposited her carefully upon the furs. He lay down beside her and they both slept the sleep of the deeply gratified.

* * *

Arndís is playing in the shower with the Leader of the Council of High Elders. It is nearly impossible to get any water on her body with his huge mass blocking the spray, so she growls and pokes at his tender places with her talons. He quickly turns to pick her up and place her head directly under the powerful spray. Large spatters of water bounce, stinging, off her head and out into the bathing room. They splatter the Elder full in his laughing maw. Rivers run down her beautiful face as her mandibles wave back and forth. She struggles and sputters, "Put me down! This is no way to treat the Bearer of your pup!"

Chortling at the faces she makes, he gently sets her feet down on the floor and allows her to cleanse. A bit later, as both of them stand in the dryer, he notices that Arndís looks lost in thought. Pulling at one of her locks like a young UnBlood showing his first interest in the fairer sex, he gently rumbles, "Arndís, do not leave me yet."

"What? Oh. I was just wondering – how in Yaut did the High Council ever get the Dor'an Elder to agree to mate outside his Clan?"

"That was easy. He had sired the two eligible Dor'an females, so he obviously couldn't mate with them. It was not difficult to negotiate that he either mate outside his Clan or not mate with any of the eligible females at all. His high ethics did not make sense in the light of the small gene pool we have to work with. Variety is what we need!" He gave a slight clicking of satisfaction and reached to caress her muscular stomach. "I ask Paya to give us a strong and healthy pup!"

"As do I," she replied. Embracing her face with his own, his hands run over her body. His excitement rises.

"Not now, most virile Hunter. I sense a change in my body. I should go to the Healer's soon. You are a very effective partner, I think."

"Let us be sure," he murmurs. "Where may I find a spare mask?"

Walking over to a compartment, she lifts a large mask from inside. "This was one of Ulfr's, my Blood Sire. His spirit will be honored that you use it to examine me."

The High Council Leader applies the mask to his face; it is not a bad fit, just a little tight. His face tilts down to let his gaze follow her body to her perfect abdomen. Arriving at the correct place, he switches to the mask's greatest magnification. There, up above her pelvic bone, is the tiny cluster of hot dividing cells. One of his powerful seeds had proved the victor and had penetrated her ova to produce this living, growing being. It had floated down into her womb and attached itself only recently. Now it was growing.

"Our pup is there," he pronounces proudly, embracing her face again briefly. "Arndís?"

"Sei?"

"Will you try for the Matriarchy?"

"You know already that I will," is her soft reply. He nods his approval, "I will go to my quarters. I would be pleased to know the Healer's report on your pregnancy."

"I shall contact you as soon as I return."

"I await your com link, most Honorable Huntress. It has been my privilege to have been selected by you."

"You are the worthiest one. May I ask you a question?"

"Certainly."

"What is your name? I only know you as Leader or Trainer, and all the records I read simply referred to you by rank." Curiosity burns in Arndís', now soft, eyes.

"I am called Ab'hey'a."

"How strong! Very fitting for you, Ab'hey'a. Our pup shall know your name and your deeds."

With proper formality regained between them, the High Elder, Leader of the High Council takes his leave. Arndís prepares to call upon Myn'dill, only to find her request redirected to Sig'dan. _I'm sure that Healer Myn'dill is swamped with all my sisters who want him to check their pregnancy. Healer Sig'dan is not as senior, but he is very skilled. An appointment with him will suffice. But for now, I must rest._

* * *

The maiden Huntress Chance, accompanied by the gigantic Ancient A'dairf, approached her new dwelling under the guard of Arbitrators. The Ancient remained suspiciously close to her as they navigated the crowds. Feeling somewhat stifled by his presence, she stuffed down her aggravation. The only proper response to such a high-ranking Hunter was polite respect. She opened her doorway, only to have the Ancient suddenly barge in right behind her.

"I am quite safe now, Honorable Ancient. I am honored that you chose to accompany me."

"Although appropriately timid around your betters, you are also very mannerly, young female and your Yautja is excellent. I was informed that you did not learn it until recently."

"I did learn it during my Training," she bowed her head to him as her Elder. "I will take my leave of you now."

He clicked at her, and she moved back a step. Was he angry? His deep voice answered, "I did not accompany you to ensure your safety, the Arbitrators are sufficient for that. Do you have any idea why I am here?"

The red-locked female burned with embarrassment as well as a reluctant awareness. "I…I…are you selected as my mate?"

"I am he who was selected by the High Council to breed with you." He raised his crown grandly and, it seemed to Chance, struck a pose to show off his substantial body. "You are still new to our ways. It is true that I am an Ancient; however, we Hunters grow in strength and skill with every long cycle." He boasted, but his words were true.

"Until what?" Chance asked, unexpectedly.

"What do you mean, 'until what'?" he asked not unkindly. She certainly was a talker! But she was also half ooman and so he indulged her.

"I am trying to learn all I can about my kind, Honorable Ancient. Forgive my rudeness. You said that 'Hunters grow in strength and skill with every long cycle.' But I know that you do not live forever. So I asked, 'until what?' You grow until what happens?"

A'dairfr considered the wisp of a female before him. There was no fear coming from her, only curiosity. "That is a question worth answering, young one. We grow until we begin to feel that inner crumbling that tells us we will grow no more. It is then that we seek an honorable entrance into Cetanu's Hall."

"May I ask…have you felt that yet?" Pure honest concern shone from the pale face.

"Not yet…but it will be soon. Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, I want to know everything. I apologize if my questions are rude."

Getting straight to the point, A'dairfr asked, "Young Blooded female, what do you think of me?"

Chance looked the Ancient Elder over before replying, "You are extremely interesting. You seem to be the only Ancient around. I mean, I've not seen every Hunter on Yaut, but there seem to be no other Ancients, only you."

"A good observation, Chance. The disease of the Ancients that you touched upon in Training killed all of my aged brethren. I alone am of this extreme age. The High Council honors my Bloodline by allowing me to Sire a pup from you." Chance's crown flared and anger mixed with a touch of fear flashed from her eyes. A'daifr immediately read the situation, "Do not fear my greatness, little one. I will be gentle with you."

"It's…not that…I don't wish to bear anyone's pup!" she wailed. "I went on the Chiva Hunt to make my mother, my Bearer, proud of me. Now she's gone back to Earth and left me to my fate here!"

The Ancient listened to her cries, wondering that she did not gush over his extreme male prowess. "This is very unusual. I have never met a female who went on Chiva only to please her Bearer. Did you not realize the duty, no the privilege, that would be imposed upon you?"

"I guess I did, but my only thought was to earn my mark and prove my adulthood to my Bearer. I thought I might be allowed take my time after that to find a…mate."

"Your mate stands before you," he answered. "You should be proud that I was chosen for you."

"I'm sure I am…except…I don't want ANYONE! You don't understand. I've been impregnated before. It was rape…it was all rape…over and over again back there in the jungle down below in the caverns that you call a temple. I didn't want any of them, and I don't want anyone now!"

A'dairfr backed away from the female, astounded at her words and the scent he was reading off her. Her words were pure! She wanted no one – so there was no one he could fight to claim her. She was not as timid as he had judged her to be. The pure and worthy Ancient would not defile himself by forcing her. What was he to do? "Chance," his rumble was smooth and low. "Make yourself comfortable in your new rooms. I will consult with the High Council regarding your wishes." With that he nodded respectfully to her and left, signaling the guards that there was nothing for them to do. It was over before it began.

The young Blooded female saw all the guards leaving and emitted a sigh of relief that she was not to be raped again, at least not yet. But what if this High Council decided against her? The urge to run compelled her to leave the dwelling. Exiting the window nearest the roof, she scaled the rest of the stone wall until she stood above the Hunters below. Carefully creeping, hiding in the shadows, she made her way over the rooftops unseen by anyone. In the city center, she could see the spaceport. If only there were a way to take one of the ships and pilot it back to Earth! There she could join her mother. She had no memories of the planet, but considered it her salvation because her parent Duncan was there. She would find her way onto a ship, locate her mom and take the odds offered by Earth. Very, very carefully, Chance began to search for a way inside the gate.

She waited all night, watching as groups of Hunters either walked through or rode ground transports through the guarded opening. Many of the ground vehicles were hover-craft but some were gravity–bound and rolled in on smooth orbs. She noticed that some of the larger crew-bearing vessels had a covered area in the rear, presumably for supplies. Chance worked her way to the ground and looked for such a vehicle. Finding one parked outside a public eatery, she climbed under the covered area and found a small space between containers that could hold her. Then she waited. Waited for anyone to come out and steer the transport into the space port. She prayed that she had ventured onto a vehicle that was going directly to the port after the males inside the building had finished eating. Mindfully, Chance worked to relax and control her scent.

She did not get the opportunity to work long. A rumbling crew of Yautja approached and climbed into the seats forward of her hiding place. The transport came to life, zoomed through the streets until she quickly found it slowing to a stop. Official growls between the Yautja riding in front of her and others off to the side resulted in the vessel going forward. Chance remembered to breath again as she realized there would be no search of the hold. Then she was jolted to a stop after a few careless turns. _Is the pilot drunk? _she silently wondered. She felt the transport bounce up a bit as the large Hunters left their seats and then she heard voices as they spoke, presumably, with another crew. It was now or never! She had to exit her hiding spot and see if there was a way aboard a ship bound for Earth.

* * *

Early the next cycle, a Healer's vessel set off for the Blue Planet. The crew, plus their Healer were going to visit the pregnant ooman's who were once again due for a check-up. They had made uncounted trips to the planet and by now it was a boring assignment. That made it difficult to keep the same level of mission discipline consistent from trip to trip. Every time, the same coordinates were set, the same places were visited, the same females were checked. Nothing exciting had happened since that ooman female had fled the Blue Planet authorities and sought passage to Yaut to save her unborn pup.

* * *

While it was still dark, from her hiding place among the spent fuel cells, Chance had overhead the crew talking about their destination and realized that their ship was the transport she had been looking for. As they dallied about, socializing with other crews, she snuck through the open hatchway. The ship was large and she searched for a place to become invisible. The metal deck plating rang beneath her feet, so she quickly removed her sandals. Then she realized that the ringing had changed tone as she walked over it. Dropping to her knees, she felt around until she discovered the ring handles lying between the deep grooves of the deck. Chance managed to lift one of the plates – it took nearly all her strength to do so. Below the deck was a storage area that she could fit into by crawling on her hands and knees. Her perfect hiding spot was there! She located it back behind some large dried food containers and sealed flasks of water. These were emergency rations, stored on every ship to sustain the Hunters should they become marooned. Now, she puzzled about how to keep her scent down. There was a small air inflow so that the atmosphere in the storage area below the deck would be kept fresh. Chance worried that her scent might be circulated into the air above, forming a pungent trail for the Hunters to follow. She had great respect for the honor of all Healers, but was uncertain about the crew. Her search of the space below continued as the crew now approached the ship. Chance could hear their rumbles from outside and as quietly as possible, slid the plate back in place. Scent or no scent, she was committed to this plan now. She would either reach Earth or die trying…or worse.

The clank of sandals on the deck overhead informed her that the Hunters had boarded. Their voices were muffled by the thick metal and she could not make out what they said. But she could track them overhead and knew there were three. After a short time she heard another set of heavier clanks and reasoned that the Healer had boarded. Bracing herself against a bundle of cloth next to the dried food containers, she prepared for take off.

The Healer's vessel silently lifted into the sky and headed for the portal that would speed the trip to the Blue Planet. Even with the portal, it would take some cycles to accomplish the trip. He settled in his quarters and read the latest reports on the offspring of the High Elders and the Matriarch's hybrid females. So far, all who had reported in were pregnant. The Healers had begun their tampering to insure the offspring would be female. He clicked his tusks in satisfaction as he realized that the propagation of future Huntresses and Matriarchs had begun. This first batch of females had only to bear and raise their pups properly until they went for training. If their offspring was successful at Chiva and subsequently bred and bore healthy young - the entire experiment would finally be deemed a success.

Reading on, he saw that a fourth batch of the Matriarch's pups were due to be decanted. Another and another batch would be born until all of the donated ova were turned into living Yautja females. Unaccustomed worry pitched at him as he considered what would happen when the project was declared a success. Would a ban on impregnating oomans ensue? If so, what would the repercussions of that be? While the supply of Yautja females was growing, they were still few in number when compared to the population of Hunters. With breeding rights going to the strongest and most skillful males, it might be many, many long cycles before the average Hunter could participate in the rut and spread his seed. How would the Hunters cope with this? What would happen to the population of Hunters if only female pups were allowed to be born? When would all be normal again and allowed to happen as Paya intended?

It was all too much for him to solve. He felt the beginnings of a rare tension headache and went to the kehrite to work off his stress. Hitting the training bag usually brought satisfaction to his body and reminded the crew that he was not just a Healer, but a capable Elder Hunter worthy of respect.

Again and again he jabbed his fists, hand sides and feet into the bag. He would hit, execute a pinpoint turn and then hit again. As he warmed to doling out punishment, his movements became faster, his breathing and heart rate increased and his mind melted into his body to become one with his blows. A mind which exists in the present moment does not worry about what might happen, and so, released from reacting to these thoughts, his body relaxed.

Happily victorious against the leather bag, the Healer completed his fight and went to reward himself in the bath. A long, hot steep would ready him for the coming sleep period. The ship's bath was adequate and he appreciated that none of his crew joined in. They gave him his needed space as they went about their regular routine of equipment checks. Then, with nothing else to do, they gathered in the galley to gamble, brag and relate stories.

The Healer had just climbed into his welcoming furs and settled down. Two of the crew were also in their beds, leaving a third to stand the ancient ritual of watch. The ship's sleep cycle was quiet with only the travel hum to lull the Hunters into dreams. They slept righteously, unaware that below them in the emergency cargo hold, a fully adult Huntress fought to keep her body still and tried to sleep.

The impulse to squirm gnawed at the legs of the comely Huntress. She closed her eyes and tried a relaxation technique she had learned in training. Sometimes it was necessary to spend great lengths of time in a small, cramped space when watching quarry or the enemy. During such a watch, the urge to move could become overwhelming. Chance felt her feet and calves relax as her mind hummed the verses over and over again. _My feet are water, my calves, knees and thighs are water. I feel them flow and run down the sides of where I am. I am one with this place. _She relaxed and mindlessly drifted into sleep.

The Healer tossed and turned, uncertain as to why he could not sleep. He should have left the mating reports unread, he decided. It had been quite some time since he had mated. Not that he was reluctant to breed with an ooman female, but his job kept him quite busy and the time required to hunt and procure one had not been available in some cycles. He would have to realign his priorities and ask for some time off. Mental pictures of a few of his human conquests drifted by as he sought slumber. He would like to find a substantial ooman this time, a female with some bulk and muscle. He could imagine locating such a creature to rut this time. Engrossed in his fantasy, he took in a great huff of air as if to savor her mating perfume. It was delicious! Heady, muskier than a Blue Planet female's delicate scent usually was. Another dose of Eau de Arousal seeped into his mouth and he felt his junior self twitch to life. He would find this tempting female and plant himself within her! He would tease her with his scent and nips, prolonging his agony of desire until he could stand it no more – then turn and plunge into her…

The Healer's eyes flew open, even as his mandibles opened full and his gaping mouth gasped, searching the air for that fragrance. That sacred aroma that was like no other, the enticing aroma of a rut-ready Yautja female! He sat straight up in bed, continuing to scent the delightful essence. There was a real female on board! A Huntress! Pulling on a cloth, he scrambled for the door from his room even as he pushed the alarm on his com. Announcing to the crew that there was a stow-away on board, he began to follow the trace of scent along the ship's corridor.


	12. Chapter Eleven:When the Student is Ready

**Chapter Eleven: When the Student is Ready...**

**"_We're our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves._" - _Tom Robbins_**

Chance was pulled from her mantra of relaxation by the sound of heavy footfalls in several directions. It sounded as if everyone in the crew were running around from place to place as if they were…searching. _Searching for me!_ The alarm sounded in her mind. Crawling as fast as she could, she reached the movable panel overhead. _I'll die fighting hand to hand, _she thought grimly. _Much better than the alternative._

Pushing open the entrance, she erupted from the floor, jumping up onto the deck plate in the crouch of battle readiness. Her head swiveled all around to take in as much of the threat as possible. To one side, the corridor was empty; to the other a crew member was glomping toward her and came to a sudden stop in complete surprise. What was a female doing in the emergency hold? Involuntarily, he took in great huffs and slowly inspected her from head to foot. Caught off-guard in his act of surprise, his astonishment grew as the female charged him. He was caught mid-solar plexus by the bolt of her body and down he went as if he had been sawed off at the ankles. There was barely time for him to open his arms to try and spread the energy of the fall and, most disturbingly, he had lost the ability to breathe. There he lay, gasping painfully for air as the female sprung back up. Chance then delivered a blow, taught to her courtesy of Theron, which rendered the Hunter unconscious. Shaking the sting from her hand, she continued down the hall, feeling more confident now that she carried several of his weapons.

The Healer tracked the air-borne intoxicant directly to the askew deck plate. Jumping down into the hold, he bent and huffed and peered around. There was no mistaking the strong scent. This had been her hiding place. He needed to locate her before his witless crew did. Their minimal competence did not need to be propagated into the future. He would protect her from their immature advances and punish them soundly if any had dared to lay a hand on her! Vaulting from the hole in the floor he took off. As he ran around the curve that told him he was near the engine room, he waveringly came to a halt. There were two of his very green crew, ferociously brawling.

One had grasped the other by the metal codpiece and one of his shoulder plates while he slammed him, headfirst, into the wall. It had not been going on long enough for the rammed one to be damaged. In between the clangs of his helmet with the immobile wall, the slammed Hunter was bellowing how he would cut off the privates of his foe and stuff them up his nether aperture.

With a deep roar the Healer ordered them to cease, "Stop this! Brains of c'jit! The female you are fighting over is gone!" Hearing their leader's anger and that the object of their discord had left, the Hunter who held his crewmate promptly dropped him. The battered one got to his feet and then the two faced their Elder with bowed heads. The Healer stiffly ordered them to separate decks to resume the search and vowed to break all of their bones if either of them touched her. As they left, he took up his huffing to follow the, now scant, scent trail. It led past the make-shift hallway kehrite and took a left where the corridor divided. Just into the new hall, he found his third crew member unconscious upon the floor. He was breathing, just knocked out, the Healer discovered during his quick evaluation. _A worthy female to have rendered this one unconscious. He must have not been to her liking. _He softly clicked his satisfaction and returned to the hunt.

Chance had discovered the bridge. With the ship being automatically directed by its computer, there was no need for anyone constantly at the controls. She looked around and was able to identify the basic controls as she had studied some rudimentary piloting during her training. Every Hunter learned to do a basic course setting, take-off and landing so as to stand-in for the official pilot should he be killed. The controls were not difficult and Chance quickly affirmed the Earth destination. According to the read-out they would arrive in four Yaut cycles. _Four days to keep the assholes at bay. _She scanned for the security controls. If she could shut and lock some of the doorways, she might be able to keep some or all of the Hunters sequestered until the landing. "I wonder where the Healer is," she muttered aloud, expressing a common prejudice, "I've not seen his frail, flabby self yet." As soon as the words came from her mouth, Chance's inner proximity warning sent her spinning around.

The Healer flexed his arms in response to her verbal evaluation of him. Then he stood, warily on guard. This female had evaded his entire crew. Although none of them were as strong and skilled as he was, he remained cautious. She had knocked one of his Hunters out and crept away while the other two fought over her. He reconnoitered her small, wiry but well-muscled frame. She was obviously a hybrid and he noted that she bore a Clan mark. On mission to the Blue Planet, he had missed the homecoming of the notorious new Yautja females but reasoned from her appearance that she must be the one who had joined the Chiva teams very late in their training.

"I am the mission Healer. I trust that I am not the weakling you had imagined?"

Chance said nothing. She studied the Yautja before her, noting he was probably a much more significant foe than the others on board. Still, he did not scent of being pissed off at her insulting judgment of him. Instead, his odor beckoned to her in a way she had not detected since she had squeezed through the fighting crowds of Hunters with the Ancient A'dairfr. _Crap! He wants to mate with me. Don't they think of ANYTHING else? How am I going to manage him?_

"Honorable Healer, I regret that you overheard my obviously incorrect evaluation of you. I am the Blooded Huntress Chance and I request passage to the Blue Planet."

"Honorable Huntress, if you wish to request passage, why did you not ask for it before you went into hiding on my ship?"

"I…I did not think that you would grant my request. And I MUST get to the Blue Planet!"

"Why is this so imperative?"

"I don't want to mate anyone and I must rejoin my Bearer."

"So rather than go the pure and honest way by asking me, you chose to hide yourself like some common BadBlood seeking asylum on a faraway system. Not only that, you taunt me and my crew with your scent which speaks of your ripeness. Then you tell me that you do not want to mate." He finished his sentence with a growl but held his temper. There was no scent of a lie in the air. "You present a strange dilemma, female. Yet I detect no deception in your presentation. Therefore I judge that your twisting story is true, Chance. I assume that you left many Hunters seeking your favor back on Yaut?"

"There was only one - the High Council had assigned me to mate with him, Honorable Healer. But when I told him my story, he said he would not force himself upon me and elected to go to the Council for guidance. I was a…aware that the Council could decide against me – so I ran." She stood; fully convinced she was disgraced by her admission of fear.

The Healer listened and carefully stowed his mating drive for the moment. This was a time for clear thinking. This female, who was now his hostage, had run from the High Council's authority. That alone classified her as at least a renegade and possibly a BadBlood. He did not particularly blame her for being fearful of the Council's judgment. He would not have relished being called before them. However, he sensed there was much more to her decision.

"Tell me how you came to be among us, Chance."

Upon his request, Chance told him of how her mother had been stolen from Earth by the BadBloods who had mounted an attack against the Matriarch, and how she was the offspring of the Leader of the entire unsavory pack. She explained how her innocence had been taken by her own brother and then eventually the others who had ganged up and beat him to a pulp. She told of how her body had known that the pup inside her was malformed and had aborted it.

The Healer, though he would not show it, was moved by her tale and also conflicted by the need to do the right thing for her. "I believe that you were subjected to what would have been a natural and enjoyable activity had you been of age, treated properly and with an Honorable mate. Perhaps in time, you will think differently of it. But now I have a choice. I could take you back to Yaut to stand before the High Council. Indeed, that is what I should do! You would have been treated honestly if you had stood before them, young female! Now that you have run – any who find you may treat you as a BadBlood. Even now, the Arbitrators may be searching for you.

"Having heard your life's story, I see how you have been dealt a most inequitable hand by the Gods and, ignoring my own council, I will intercede. I offer you passage to the Blue Planet, Chance. But! You must keep to the quarters I give you and not tempt my crew. I will bring you food and anything you need. Once on the planet, you must disappear. The Arbitrators may eventually track you to its surface – they are relentless in their pursuit of those who offend the law. You must hide and leave no trace of your landing or passing – anywhere! Do you understand?"

"I understand, but can I still try to find my Bearer?"

"I do not think it wise but if you choose to try – do so only in the most subtle and discrete ways. In trying to find her, you may direct a beacon to yourself instead. Be cautious!"

"Will the Arbitrators know that you helped me?" Chance worried.

"Not if I am clever! That possibility is my concern. Yours is only to hide and leave no trail."

The Healer left the female and headed for his private quarters. Once inside he contacted his mentor Myn'dill and explained that he had Chance on board his ship. Myn'dill assured him that he would contact the Matriarch directly to explain the situation and would get back in touch with him soon to relay her wishes. Satisfied that he had done the right thing, the Healer settled back to nap while awaiting the return call.

* * *

Back on Yaut, Myn'dill hurried to meet with Sally. He had insisted on meeting her in person to discuss a most important issue rather than speaking over a com about it. She greeted him warmly in her small private audience room that was used to meet with close friends or family.

"Myn'dill! I am feeling well, so I hope that your visit is not to discuss me," she greeted him with a warm clasping of forearms as befitted those Blood bonded. "Is anything wrong with any of my daughters?"

"Everyone is well, Sal'lee. I came to you because I have discovered where Chance is."

"You have! Wonderful! I've been worried sick about her and even debated contacting Duncan to report that she is missing. Where is she?"

"She stole aboard a Healer's ship and is on the way to the Blue Planet."

Sally smiled. "Clever girl! A'dairfr can call off his dogs now. He's been combing the city for her as he felt personally responsible for her disappearance."

"Call off his dogs?" Myn'dill looked confused.

"Oh, just another Blue Planet expression. I meant that he can stop searching for her now. So, she's on her way to Earth is she? Hmmmmm." Sally thought for a few moments. "Healer, have you told anyone else about this?"

"No. I came to you first."

"Excellent. Do not tell anyone that she has been located. There is someone I will contact who will meet her on Earth. I trust him and I'll instruct him to help her do whatever it is she needs to do. I do not find fault in her for what has happened, Myn'dill. And I will not force her to bear a pup!"

"Sei, Honorable Sal'lee. It would be dishonorable."

"I will contact you soon. I will have some coordinates for the transport to land at and have Chance disembark from the ship there. She is not to know that this has been planned. She is to think that a normal stop for the ship is being made. Have the Healer provide her with basic survival items."

"It will be done, Honorable Matriarch!" Myn'dill nodded his respect to her and left, intent on carrying out her wishes. He trusted in her wisdom regarding this half ooman and half Yautja hybrid female.

* * *

On the Healer's transport, Chance spent the rest of the trip in a small room that contained a bed, a chair and a table. Off in a corner was a bathroom with a toilet and small basin with running water. She tried to keep clean by scrubbing with cloth-fulls of water and moved the bed to one side in order to have room to workout and keep fit. She was allowed to keep the weapons taken from the Hunter she had fought as fair trophies. These she sharpened and polished as part of her daily discipline.

The Healer shared from the food store with her once a cycle. She looked forward to his brief visit as the only bit of companionship she was allowed for the rest of the journey. She noticed that he kept his distance during his visits and sometimes even wore a mask. When the cycle finally came for them to touch down upon Earth, the Healer brought her a pack containing food, water, spare clothing and a few medical supplies. He wished her well and then escorted her from the ship. It was mid-afternoon on the section of Earth they had landed on. The crew was busy setting up the medical bay when the Healer directed her to leave.

Chance knew very little about Earth, but had a fine set of maps downloaded from the ship's computer. The map she called up displayed that they had landed on a part of the land mass that was called, by the humans, Canada. She was shocked to find how cold it was outside as they stood at the ship's open hatch. The Healer explained to her, "We are the nearest to one of this planet's orbital points that we go. I thought this desolation might be a good place for you to hide. There is environmental mesh in your pack. Put it on before you depart. See the paths converging ahead? That way leads to a small city of oomans. Be wary of approaching them, they will not like your appearance."

Rummaging through the pack, Chance found the mesh suit. Quickly she stripped off her armor and loincloth as the Healer looked on. At least he wasn't gawking, she appreciated. She donned the mesh and reclothed herself in a flash, then headed from the ship. The Healer called after her, "If you change your mind about mating, I would be honored to be challenged by you!"

Chance did not reply as she stepped off the ship's ramp into the snow. Duncan had told her about snow. It was mid-way up her calf and made the mesh spark a bit, at the moisture content surrounding it, but continued to keep her warm. She trudged away from the ship and in the direction of the unknown city that bespoke in her imagination of warmth, food and civilization.

She was on a road, she judged, from the flat levelness of the plain width. There were no tracks in the thick white stuff, so it must not be well traveled - at least not during this part of the day. Off the sides of the road, the snow was deeper. There was little in the way of vegetation, only some short scrubby stuff that appeared to be made of only brown strands. It was risky on the road, but she figured she could jump off, cloak and hide behind some of the brown strandy things if anyone came along.

She walked until nearly sunset. Then she went off the roadway to make a shelter. On the downwind side of a group of scraggly plants, she dug down through the snow until she had made a sort of body-sized hole. From the road, no one could see her lying there. Then, after turning up the suit control a bit, she rested inside her nest of snow. Saving her rations for tomorrow, she went into fitful sleep.

Just before dawn, she awakened to realize that her mesh had melted the snow around her. Where, before, there had been a Chance-sized pocket there was now an open spot - large enough for two Elders. The icy ground was bare and she examined the matted and dead plant material that had been buried under the frozen whiteness.

She ate from her supplies and swallowed some water. Then began walking the road for the day, looking everywhere for some sign of humans or Yautja or something to hunt. As she continued, more of the scrubby plants appeared and also taller plants with dagger-like green projections growing in numberless quantities. From far in the distance, she caught a whiff of living creatures. Deciding to turn off the road, she walked into the scent which the wind blew to her. With any luck she would locate something fresh to eat.

The caribou herd tromped and grunted along the familiar route. It was too near to civilization for their fancy, but driven by hunger they would sometimes venture close. Occasionally they would stop and paw beneath the snow to uncover the sedges and lichens that they relished. Some would stop and sniff the wind, ever alert for any danger to the herd.

They did not detect the still, cloaked form approach their flank from the west. They did not hear her careful footsteps that left tracks in the soft white blanket of the world. It was only when the snow became alive and lunged that the leaders snorted their fear and the herd ran. The eldest ones turned to face the enemy and saw the living snow change into a man-like creature. One of their brothers was down and the white around his neck was stained dark with blood. They caught the scent now. The scent of the slayer and it evoked primordial racial fear, prompting the leaders to flee for their lives.

The Huntress stood for a moment, relishing the clean kill she had just completed. Here was flesh enough to sustain her for many days ahead. After scanning all around, she knelt to the task of preparing meat.

It did not take long for her to skin and strip the carcass. The flesh had been cut into packable strips, along with the edible internal organs. All was wrapped tightly in the creature's hide and would keep a long time in the freezing temperatures. She snapped several of the bones to gorge on the blood-rich marrow and regretted that she could not haul all of the bones with her. It would have made too large and awkward a bundle. There was a bloody mess in the snow by the time she was finished. Like all good hunters, she did not like leaving any trace behind. If the ground had not been frozen, she would have scraped out a hole and buried the remains. Instead, she hoped that there were plenty of local scavengers to consume the scraps.

Hoisting the heavy load of meat, she hit the road again and by nightfall had found the end of the trail. There were only the skeletal remains of a hut where the human-created pathway ended. It leaned from the wind and part of the roof had caved in. Still, it was better than a hole in the snow. Chance entered the creaky structure and scanned it for strength. The parts that still stood looked sturdy. It would probably protect her from the elements a bit as long as no major gusts blew. She would set up a camp here and try to figure out where she was and where to go found a few empty large, cloth sacks made from some very coarse material. She cleared debris from a spot on the floor and laid the cloth sacks down. Not a comfortable bed with furs, but still better than the bare ground. Sleep came fitfully to the tired female.

Her eyes had hardly shut when the howls of distant night-hunting creatures opened her eyes and she jumped up, ready to defend. But the voices were not coming her way. As her reflexes died down she slumped back to the floor and tried again to sleep. The growls of distant beasts fighting reached her keen senses. _Perhaps they consume the waste from my kill. Perhaps then they will be full of food and not follow me hunting for more. _Suddenly she bolted to her feet again. _Brains of shit! You stupid, idiot! _Grasping her makeshift sack of butchered meat, she dragged her tired self outside and hunted for a large tree. Finding one not far from her 'cabin', she scuttled up the trunk and secured her bundle in a crotch. _There! I hope no predators are able to climb this and take my meat. But if they do, at least they will only find the meat and, hopefully, not me!_ She took a small branch and scuffed at her tracks all the way back to her sanctuary. Finally satisfied that all precautions had been taken, Chance tried again for sleep. _I wish I had asked Mom more questions about this place. What kinds of creatures live here? How dangerous are they? _She finally closed her eyes, remembering something Duncan had once said about man being the most dangerous animal alive. _Not the women?_

They had come north during the winter to hunt. The father and son teamed up to stalk some of the most fearsome beasts in the Canadian wilderness to add to their wall at home. Visitors would come and admire all the trophies – the heads, horns and other odd parts. Some would even want to hear the details of their hunt – how they had figured out where to go, what the waiting and stalking at been like and exactly what weapons they had used to take game.

The father had taught his son all of the ways of the wild: how to survive, how to spot and track, and sportsmanship too. It was important to make a clean kill that took down an animal fast. Not only did such a kill allow an animal to die quickly, it saved the hunter from having to track a wounded and possibly dangerous creature through the wilderness. The son had learned well. His aim was excellent and his keen sight could make out a deer all the way across a field in the dimming light of early dusk. The younger male had often secured venison for the family dinner table back home. This time they had traveled far from home, far to the north to seek out a bear. Not just any bear, but the perfect bear - a large prime specimen whose large black head would become the centerpiece of a family room wall full of trophies.

It was early in the morning and there had been another fall of snow during the night. They had driven as far as the old truck could safely take them on the back country road, and then switched to snowshoes. The wide nets under their feet held them up on the snow-pack and made traveling much easier. They had been the son's idea and his father, once he got used to them, declared them an excellent way to travel.

They had packed light for this day's trek along the edge of the forest. Searching for bear track they walked towards the pinking sky that announced the dawn. The father let his son lead the way in the search and contented himself with following and watching this younger version of himself scan the ground in all seriousness as the plume of breath trailed behind. It was good to be out in pure nature, on the hunt with his son.

Of course, his mother had not been too keen on the idea of them going after a bear. Deer she could understand. They provided something to eat. But a bear? That was just a thrill she had told them. But the father had wisely explained that bear was also good to eat. She had made a face then, but knew there was no use opposing their idea. So she blessed them and prepared to be at home alone for a while until they returned with some poor bruin's head that needed to be prepared for hanging on the wall. She had sworn under her breath that her family room was turning into a museum of natural history and they would soon have to move into a larger house to accommodate all the 'damned animal parts' that her son and his father insisted on hanging there. But she was happy that they were spending time together in that special bond that exists between father and son.

"Here!" the son said in a quiet but excited voice, "Bear sign!" He pointed out the large scratches on a thick tree trunk. They began up over the father's head.

"Big one!" the father replied, with a nod of his head. "Any tracks?"

"There," the son pointed ahead. And silently they both followed the large footprints in the snow. Abruptly the younger hunter stopped, holding his hand up to signal his father. Directly ahead of them was a bear. Not just any bear but a HUGE bear. He was up on his hind feet snuffling his nose at a tree. The son followed the bear's line of sight and spied some sort of brown lump up in the branches of the tree. He pointed it out for his father, but the older hunter had already located it. Using his hands, he explained to his son that he would come at the bear from one direction and his son should circle and come from the other direction. His son gave a slight nod and headed out, walking as silently as possible. It would take almost nothing to alert the bear to their presence.

Trying to be as shadows, they crept until they were on either side of the great bear. In the meantime, the bear had begun to try and climb the tree. It was straight up and the beast was large and still fat from the summer. It was no longer a tiny cub who could race like the wind up a tree at his mother's command. The bear grunted from the effort of pulling himself up.

The father nodded and the son let out a whoop and raced towards the tree with the climbing bear. Caught by surprise, the bear looked about in a panic. What was that horrible noise? He saw the running form coming at his tree and waited, sniffing the air to try and identify it. When it was directly underneath, the scent came to him and the bear realized he was dealing with an ancient, deadly enemy. Feeling the primal urge to attach, the bear dropped and landed with a great whooomph upon his foe, squashing it into the snow. With satisfaction, the bear felt the body crumple beneath him. Hearing another strange clucking kind of noise, the creature looked about to find yet another creature like the one under him. It was making an odd rhythmic noise and made no move to attack him. Instead it waited.

Beneath its body, the bear suddenly felt a sharp prick in its backside. It came up off its landing pad with a roar and the body that had been beneath it jumped up and gave an answering roar. The bear stopped, very confused, and cocked its head in that bearish way. Its opponent roared again and charged. The bear answered the slam of the strong body with a large hug, scrapping its claws along the flesh enclosed within its arms. Clasping its foolish foe it attempted to break its back. But the strange attacker was able to burst free and as it opened the bear's arms, it slammed a dagger into the great strong heart. In an instant it was over. The victor raised his face to the heavens to roar his victory into the sky.

His father finally approached him, "Well done, my Bloodline! You are ready to Chiva."

The younger hunter looked at his father, "I am? I mean…I am ready to obtain the honor of joining our Clan, Honorable Sire." He said the formal words of acceptance that he had memorized. To be finally pronounced as ready to go on the hunt of maturation where he would receive his mark of acceptance as a full adult Clan member was the culmination of a dream. A dream he had fostered for many long years was about to become a reality. He could not hold back the feelings of pride washing over him.

The father also felt pride in the accomplishments of his son. He clicked out a staccato of satisfaction and shook the younger's shoulder. "Take your trophy, Jack. This place is fairly isolated, but we need to use caution. After you skin this beast, I will take the meat. Who knows, your Bearer may discover that 'bear' meat is to her liking." They both laughed and set to work.

From her hiding place, Chance had been watching a Hunter stalk and kill a large native predator. Feeling fortunate that she was downwind of him, she viewed the drama through a wide crack in the rotting boards of her shelter. This was obviously a very green Hunter. His helm bore no mark. What was, by Yautja standards, a mere youngster doing on Earth, hunting? The techniques of the young Hunter reminded her of her Trainer Honorable Theron. Had he taught this strange UnBlood?

As the bear was downed, a crackling movement in the snow revealed the young Hunter's adult instructor standing some ways behind him. There was no doubt in Chance's mind as she saw the sinewy gray form. Even masked and armored he was quite recognizable. _Theron! What are you doing training here? Why do you work with a solo youngster? _

The UnBlood bent and began to skin the carcass with great efficiency. Once that was accomplished, he removed the large skull and all the beast's great claws. Then he began to field dress the trophy. The final cleaning and polishing would be done later. In the meantime, Theron processed the animal's flesh for food. When the work was finished and the remains disposed of, the smaller Hunter hoisted his trophies, and Theron carried the food wrapped in the dark furry hide. They began to leave the scene as Chance debated what to do. Should she follow them? Could she do so without detection? What would Theron do if he knew she had fled Yaut and was here?

She decided her best option was to follow them. She would hang back so as not to be easily seen, but close enough to see if they were coming to a ship. What then? Chance didn't know. The young UnBlood she could take easily but there was no way she would win against Theron. He would not fall again for the trick she had used to best him when they first met. The young Huntress decided that honesty would be the best policy if she were confronted. Until then, she would try to find out just what they were up to.

She did not have to follow behind them long. There was a large and rather ugly freighter parked in a fallow field. The two Hunter's carried their burdens through the deepening snow where it had drifted in the field. Their slowness against the drifts gave Chance time to catch up. It was easy for her to walk through the paths that the Hunters cut in the deep piles of wind-blown snow.

"Sire?" The smaller questioned the other in nearly a whisper, "I think we are being followed."

"We are," came the quiet reply. "We were watched during your hunt and now the watcher follows us. Just act as if you do not sense her."

"Her?"

But no answer came form his Sire, so Jack plowed along through the cold until they reached the proximity of the ship. The young Hunter was baffled by the presence of a woman following them in this wilderness. _I know some women hunt, but I'd think that she'd be afraid of us all decked out in our masks and armor. Could she be another like mom is? Somebody who knows about the Yautja? _

He bounded up the ramp with his prizes and put them on the table before he realized that Theron had not followed him. The pack of meat lay on the ramp, waiting for him to retrieve it, while his Sire had vanished. Jack knew he had gone to take care of their stalker and burned with curiosity about what was happening. However, he also knew, from hard-learned experience, he was not to leave the ship to find out what was happening.

To the green Hunter, his father was parent, mentor and trainer all in one. He demanded Jack's unquestioning obedience when out on a Hunt or mission. The lesson had been hammered home on several occasions. Jack almost began to reminisce but thought better of letting his mind wander. He was still officially on the Hunt and needed to see to his trophies.

The skull cleaning and polishing equipment were on the table, beckoning him to work as he waited. After concluding it was better to be occupied than speculate what his Sire was doing, the young Hunter sat down and went to work. The bear skull was large and heavy and took both his strong hands to hold and turn it as the soft-tissue sucking tool did its work. Later he would polish the magnificent prize until it shone.

Out in the snow, a cloaked Theron walked as softly as a bobcat on the surface of the cold, icy world. He stood by a tree and waited, eyes watching keenly for the tell-tale shimmer that would reveal the position of the Huntress. The Matriarch had contacted him, just two Earth days ago, telling him how his pupil had stowed away on the Healer's ship and was coming to the planet. Sally also gave him the coordinates where Chance would be located and Theron had deliberately steered Jack to hunt in the area. Plus, it was prime bear country and his offspring needed to continue to hone his skills.

Chance stood silently in a small grove of young trees, watching as the Hunters approached the ship. She saw Theron leave his pack on the ramp, turn and vanish in a fizzle of his cloaking screen. Only by concentrating fully could she spot his wavering form walking back in her direction. She couldn't help but admire how he made his way over the hard white ground without making a noise and felt grateful for the training she had received from him. Without it, she would have had poor odds of stowing away on the ship. If only her scent had not given her away! When the Hunter got close to her position, he simply stood and watched her.

Deciding there was no point in continuing the charade, Theron switched off his cloaking and appeared before the young female. After a moment's hesitation, she did the same. They stood, regarding each other, the teacher and the student. Finally, Chance said, "I don't believe that you are here by some twist of fate."

"I am not. The Matriarch told me where to find you. She instructed me to help you accomplish whatever it is that you came to do. She will not force you to return to Yaut, Chance."

The young female almost sighed with relief. "You help is most welcomed, Honorable Trainer Theron."

"Come," he replied and led her back over the frozen ground to his ship. "I will introduce you to my son."


	13. Chapter Twelve: The Teacher Will Appear

**Chapter Twelve: The Teacher Will Appear**

"_**What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly."**_

_**-**__**Richard Bach**_

The red-locked female obediently followed her former Trainer aboard his ship, at once grateful for companionship, assistance and shelter, while at the same time somewhat dismayed to have been so easily found. At least he was under orders to help rather than capture her and return her to face a BadBlood's fate. She breathed in pure pleasure as the doorway to the outside shut and a wash of warm humid air caused her mesh suit to switch off. The cold dry air had chafed her lungs and dried her human-like lips.

Theron led her immediately to suitable quarters and left her alone to recover. Taking off the grubby armor and clothing Chance headed towards the shower, anxious to remove the stench of her adventure. Inside the cleansing bay, warm spray and lather blessed her scales as she worked it into every crevice that nature had provided. If the Hunter had noticed, and how could he not, how very Yautja she smelled – well, he had not said anything about it. _But he did send me to my room before introducing me to his son! _She almost laughed at the thought of him introducing his travel-worn, dirty, stinking student! What would his son have thought of her? _Obviously a cause for pity_, she concluded in her imaginary scenario. _I do not look forward to meeting any young male. They are only uncontrollable savages! Thank God that Theron is here to keep him under control. I wish he had been around to discipline my brother and his gang. Perhaps with his strength they could have been properly punished and made to act civilized instead of what they became – animals! _Her teeth set in anger at the thought of them and she felt the permanent knots on the back of her neck begin to rise up. The thought of the pain they would bring caused her to try and relax. She divided her locks and let the hot spray beat down upon her tense muscles.

After donning fresh clothing from her pack, Chance felt hungry. She had given her bundle of fresh meat to Theron to add to the ship's rations. Rummaging around at the bottom of her bag she located a dried meat chunk left from her emergency rations. Nibbling on it quelled the noises her stomach was making. Her former Trainer would no doubt invite her to dine in due time and introduce her to the offspring he was obviously so very proud of. She idly wondered who he had mated with and then it hit her. Theron must have a son from a human female! Distaste flooded her mouth. _I never thought of Theron as a rapist before. Perhaps I should not feel so much at ease around him._ Chance remembered her mother's teachings to always be on guard.

"You never know, honey, there might be an animal looking to make a tasty snack out of you, or one of the boys…you know. Better safe than sorry!" Duncan's words echoed from the past as though she had just heard them. Chance whispered to her distant mother, "Don't worry, Mom. I'm trying to be safe. I know you left before I returned from Chiva because you hate goodbyes. I'll find you and then we can be safe together."

Her com sounded and she opened the doorway. She had been expecting to see Theron again, and was caught in a moment of surprise to see the younger Hunter standing before her. Hesitantly, he addressed her, "M-my Sire asked me to introduce myself to you, Honorable Huntress Chance. I am called Jack and as you see I am, as yet, UnBlooded."

Chance's mouth opened, but nothing came out. Only the scent of a serious case of nerves was caught as she breathed in the male before her. With nothing to say, she stood and stared at the offspring of Theron and some unknown human female. He was as tall as Theron, and she noted there was not a trace of gray about him – only that paleness similar to her mother. He was fit and muscular, and slightly more muscle-bound than the fineness of a Dor'an-born warrior. With a handsomely broad face the young Unblood displayed a pronounced jaw line and cheekbones. Chance's eyes scaled the barren cliffs on each side of his face where no mandibles had ever grown. _A pity. He might have made a passable Yautja. _Chance was surprised at her own prejudicial thinking.

Continuing to scrutinize his features, she saw that from the middle of his face, right above the strong lips, grew a nose. It drew no special notice from the Huntress as she was accustomed to seeing her mother and the other human females, but it did add to his distinctive look, she judged. In her younger years, Chance had often scouted her mid-face for any sign of a protrusion but had never located one. A lifetime of nose envy had proceeded.

She looked closer at Jack. The scales on his face were smooth and tiny, looking more like human skin than Yautja hide. But his appearance became more normal upon his forehead and head where it swept back in a barren state to the edge of the locks formed around his crown. Yet he was different here too. His crown edges were smooth with none of the thorniness of a pure Yautja. And his locks were not black, but bore and ashen color that Duncan would have called, 'dishwater blonde'.

He smiled at her, revealing a set of large white teeth graced with a prominent pointed cuspid in each corner. Had she not been raised by humans, she would have taken his toothy show as a threat. As it was, although okay with his smile, Chance's mind was preprogrammed. Young Hunter's were nothing but trouble - trouble and pain.

She reacted by stiffening into formality, "Your Sire has been my Trainer, Jack. I have been most fortunate to have been his student. You are half human, right?"

Jack gawked at the female before him. He had never seen a real Huntress before – even a half-human one. He saw her fit muscularity and incredible red locks, but settled his stare at her mandibles. _Just like Theron's, only smaller! And she's been through Chiva! _His eyes lifted to hone in on her forehead where the healing scar testified of her recent accomplishment. Then the scent of mistrust and fear stung him.

"Honorable Huntress," he returned the formality, unsure of how to judge her reaction to him. "My Sire has requested that I show you to our galley and invite you to share a meal with us."

She nodded and stepped out to accompany him. He noticed that she carried several weapons at her waist but did not question her about them – it would have been unforgivably rude for someone of his unmarked standing to ask her. As a marked Huntress she had earned her status and the right to go armed anywhere and anytime she pleased. Jack's waist felt barren in comparison. Once back on board his Sire's ship he had never had a reason to carry any blades.

He led her through the misty corridors without a word, keenly aware that a mistrustful female who was strong and trained enough to probably kill him followed on his heels. He felt his kidneys ache in anticipation of one of her sharp blades wedged between his rib bones. Why had he let her follow instead of walking side by side? He slowed until he could make her out with the corner of one eye.

Theron was waiting for them at the table. He had sat out great dishes of both bear and caribou flesh earliet. The meat was allowed to warm to room temperature and wafts of the appetizing feast tickled the inside of his mouth. He had also raided a few of the fruits destined for the Matriarch's table. They sat in a large bowl waiting to be ravished by hungry mouths. With their footsteps announcing them, he rose to show politeness for his guest.

Theron's intention was to treat Chance's situation most seriously. But the sight of the two of them entering the galley forced him to hold his tusks pressed close to his face so as not to betray any clicks of humor. The plight of his offspring nervously side-eyeing their guest as the two entered the room, along with Chance who betrayed her nerves in the way she walked, so ready to jump at the slightest provocation, was nearly too much for him. He noted the excess of blades at her belt. _Jack must feel like one of the chunks of meat in Mel's kitchen, _he thought, _ready to be skewered and placed on the outdoor coals to roast_. Theron took a moment to stuff down his hilarity as the two came close.

"We are honored by your presence, Blooded Huntress Chance," he rumbled in his velvety voice. "Please sit." He motioned to her chair while Jack took his usual seat, never taking his eyes from the Huntress as he noticed that her fear scent had lessened in the presence of his Sire. Without further conversation, the meal began. Handfuls of meat were taken along with the occasional fruit. Jack was amazed to see that Chance bolted down her food as quickly as his father. He had learned slower eating habits from his mother, but rushed himself so that the female would not think him odd while he ignored his Sire's mild glances.

After the meal, Theron poured them all a c'ntlip. Jack had tried the drink before, but this was the first time his father had treated him like an adult. He tried to remain cool and calm as though having a drink with the grownups was commonplace to him. Chance had tried the stuff before, during the post-Chiva honors on board the ship. She found that it burned, tasted bad and worst of all relaxed her defenses. It was a beverage she normally declined, except that this was Honorable Theron offering it to her as an equal – a blooded Clan member. Feeling this was a test of her adulthood, Chance lifted the beverage and toasted her host. "To the pure win," she declared, in Yautja, and was joined by the rumbles of Jack and his father. Then together they tossed down the liquid flame. The room echoed from the duet of loud coughing provided by Jack and Chance as they tried to breathe. Theron had provided c'ntlip from his private store – a very old c'ntlip made into a fine aged fire by time. He smacked his mandibles in enjoyment at the burning flavor, even as the female pushed back from the table and ran choking to her quarters to heave in the privacy of her room. He did feel a little bad about it making her sick. He'd not thought about her upbringing and the short time she had to acclimatize her digestive tract to alcohol. And Jack? Well, this was just another step in growing up for his offspring. He grinned with widened mandibles as the youngster regained his breath and bravely made no move to leave the table.

"May I ask a question, Sire?" Jack sputtered.

"Sei, ask."

"Is she okay? Should I check on her?"

"I believe she has retreated to her quarters to relieve her stomach of a fine meal. I doubt if she would appreciate your visit at this time."

"But what if she is seriously ill?" Concern furled Jack's brow. His Sire nodded and Jack flew off to check on their guest. At her door com he signaled his presence several times before a weak voice answered, "What do you want?"

"I am here to see if you are in need of assistance, Honorable Huntress." Only silence answered him. "Chance? Are you alright?" Again there was no reply. In a panic he used the master code to override the door seal and barged into the room. There he saw her, bent over and clinging to the edges of the commode. There was nothing left in her stomach, but it persisted in trying to bring something up. Gently, he came up from behind her saying, "Chance, can I get you some medication? I think we have something that will help." Her face, blanched from the effort, peered around at him, displaying watery eyes that looked strained. She nodded meekly and then returned to her misery.

In a flash he was off to the med bay of the large transport. There was a liquid that provided relief from such symptoms but it had to be swallowed. Jack was concerned that Chance might not be able to keep it down. Hitting his wrist com, he contacted his father. After explaining the situation to Theron, the Hunter told Jack he would meet him in the med bay.

The bay was a small room, but had an exam table, a computer link, medical instruments and a large supply of medication. Theron entered the room as Jack was shuffling through various vials of labeled liquid searching for the right one. "Wait," Theron commanded. If she is as ill as you report, she is not going to be able to take medication through her mouth. It must be injected." The Hunter went to the computer and clicked at it with his talons. After reading several screens he turned to Jack. "We have a problem. This medication cannot be injected. Well, it can be – but it will not be effective. In order to work it must be absorbed by the digestive system. We must find a way that she can swallow it and keep it in her stomach."

Jack thought for a few moments, searching his memory for an answer. An avid reader, he had devoured many texts on many subjects seeking to satisfy his in-borne curiosity. "I know a way! Do we have anything that we can mix with the medicine that will hold its shape at room temperature, but then melt at inside-the-body temperature?"

"I do not know. Let me consult our medical data." Theron tapped away again. "Yes, there is."

"Great!" replied Jack. "Let's mix a dose of the medicine with it and form it into a small shape."

"What shape?" questioned Theron, baffled as to how this would work.

"Oh, wait and I'll show you!" Jack ran from the bay back to his room and rummaged through the box of 'stuff' he collected on their trips. Odds and ends of things interested him. Finding what he was searching for, he ran back to his Sire. "Here," he held out his hand in which laid a .22 caliber bullet. "A form like that – only it can be a little larger."

"So what will that shape do? Any of us could spit that out easily!"

"Uh, it's not for her mouth, my Sire. Uh, the digestive tract has another opening." Jack's own other opening tweaked at the idea of anything being introduced to it.

With a moment's hesitation, then a nod of understanding, Theron set to work.

About an hour of Earth-time later, the gray Hunter stood at Chance's doorway, announcing himself. "Enter," a still-weak voice squeaked at him. He came inside the room where the Huntress was curled in a ball of queasiness upon the floor near the commode. She had pulled a fur to her breast and clung to it.

"I have brought you a medication, Chance," the velvet voice intoned.

"I apologize for being such trouble, Honorable Theron," her voice quivered. "I don't think I can keep anything down right now."

"This medication is to be kept up, not down." The Huntress' face quirked in confusion as her former Trainer knelt beside her and placed a very small package in her hand. "This is a medication that is inserted into the body opening that you… Here Theron's vast command of English failed him. All he could think of were the common and somewhat rude words for this part of the ooman body and the product it frequently shed. Chance was no help. She had little experience with medication of any kind.

She saw the Hunter grow embarrassed and quickly realized that it was not from the subject, but from his inability to find the correct words. "Just say it, dammit! I speak Yautja as well as human!"

Theron explained that the medication was to be inserted rectally and then inquired, out of consideration, "Do you require my assistance?"

"No!" she retorted, as the relieved Hunter left the room. He was very pleased not to have to deposit a bolus of medicine so near to the lethal dew claws of a fair-sized and well-trained Huntress. Knowing that he had instructed Chance on just how to use her hind claws from that particular position while he would be concentrating on inserting medication without injuring her was a recipe for self-injury in his mind.

Chance managed to deliver the dose of medication. Within a short time she felt her innards quiet down and she was able to get into the bed. There she quickly fell asleep and remained oblivious to the comings and goings of the young UnBlood who checked on her from time to time.

"She still sleeps," he reported to Theron who was bringing a small box down from a storage area above.

"Are you up to challenging your luck?" his Sire inquired of him. He had brought down a game of strategy and fate that they frequently played together. Jack had brought it aboard many years ago when he was much smaller and taught his Sire to play it.

"Sure!" the younger replied. "Bet I whip your butt!"

"Just try," growled back Theron, and opened the box. The components of the game "Battleship" were quickly placed and they began to play. Sire and son engaged in the mock warfare until Jack gloomily announced for the last time, "You sunk my battleship." Theron clacked as he raised his victory fist.

"You grow in your use of strategy, Jack. I am pleased. Recall, that last time – you won."

"Only because you let me win sometimes," Jack put on his mock brat voice.

Theron responded by vaulting over the game table and smacking his offspring on the shoulder. "Never," he growled, "Let us see how you respond to a true challenge!"

Jack returned the shoulder thump and the fight was on! Since they were not in the arena it quickly turned into a wrestling, slugging fest with only a single rule – get your opponent down. The two had been doing this since Jack had grown to the proper size. It had begun as soon as he could walk, the play fighting with Theron pretending to be down with the little pup on top of him. The play fighting had evolved through time and training into a true spar whenever they were in the kehrite. However, outside of the arena it was always a brawl, although good informal training for Jack and it also allowed both of them to work off a little steam, although it had decimated most of the furniture. Jack's mother had strictly forbid such activity in her house or near her garden. Two wrestling, slugging males would have quickly destroyed her tidy home and neat rows of organic vegetables had then been permitted to play there. So she had banished them to either the nearby fields or the ship. Being concerned about ignorant strangers observing and perhaps taking a shot at them, Theron had wisely decided to fight only on the ship. The cost of replacing some of the furnishings occasionally was an acceptable price to play for spending precious sparring time with his son.

Their foolery included plenty of roaring and mock challenges to each other's abilities. The reverberations of bodies repeatedly hitting the deck and walls, along with ear-splitting growls, awakened Chance. As she came to, she jumped into an alert state at the sounds of Yautja battle. Throwing on a mask, she grabbed her weapons and charged from her room towards the noise. Someone had boarded the ship and was attacking her hosts! She rushed to help them defend the ship or die in the effort.

Jack had just dodged a charge from his Sire and had whirled to deliver the humiliation of a blow to the backside which encouraged his father's travel across the floor. As Theron struggled to keep his balance while slowing his run across the room, Jack looked up to see Chance, in full battle readiness, charge into the room. With a great roar, for a female, she barged around the corner and through the entrance only to see her Trainer bent forward running in an off-balanced way as Jack's flat palm at the end of his arm continued through its drive. Her body nearly quivered at her sudden stop. Scanning the entire room, she determined that there was no one else aboard. She peeled off her mask and stood, looking at Theron and Jack with a none-too-pleased look upon her face.

"Chance, you are feeling better!" Jack smiled at her frown. "Join us!" He ran up to her to strike a playful shoulder shove and was met with a sharp double-hit from both of her fists that sent his unprepared body backwards to the floor. The look on his face was a priceless, 'What the hell?'

The Huntress quickly extended a hand to help him up. "I ask your understanding, Honorable Theron and Jack. From the sounds, I believed that you were under attack. I was coming to help."

Good-naturedly, Jack accepted the lift up to his feet while Theron responded to her apology. "I can understand why you thought that. We would have been honored to have your assistance in such a fight. But as you see, this is just an informal spar. My offspring and I often engage in such exercise. You are welcome to join us."

"I have never engaged in such an exercise, Honorable Trainer. I have always trained in the kehrite."

"Honorable Chance, your enemy will not always wait for the availability of an arena to engage you." His mandibles splayed broadly open in a show of challenge.

"Alright then," replied the Huntress, shucking her armor and mask to be equitable with them. "Should I engage you both at the same time?" Her face lifted in self-confidence as she spoke.

"My Bloodline has challenged you first," was his answer and he backed away from them.

Chance turned to Jack and gave him the correct responding shoulder shove then jumped back to assume her position. She had expected to begin circling as if in a kerhite. But the rules of the sparring round did not apply here. Instead of circling, Jack shocked her by jumping upon her with a great roar. At the last moment, she tried to drop away from him and spring to the right. He came down with only part of his body upon her but it was enough, they both crashed to the floor as Theron nodded in approval.

Chance did not stay down long, in a few moves she shed the green youngster and was again on her feet. The Huntress was a quick learner and adjusted to the new 'no-rules' fight. Her loud, higher-pitched screams joined Jack's low ones as they pitched jibes back and forth at each other and traded hits. The young male soon found that she was a master of epithets. They tossed barbs back and forth, with each volley from Chance becoming more and more graphic.

"Run in fear, weak female pup!" Jack bellowed at her, to which her retort came, "I do not fear you, dinky-dicked bug-fucker! But all the female gnats are running in terror!" Theron could not suppress the snortish sound of amazement that came from his throat.

"What?" exclaimed Jack, astounded but not dropping his guard. "What in the hell kind of insult was that?"

"One I used on my brother's friends," she yelled back, "Now fight, asshole!"

"But what does the size of my dick have to do with how well I can fight you?" Jack was truly puzzled at this affront.

"Cuz weak weenies are…weak…I guess." Chance gradually dropped her defenses as she saw her opponent was quite confused and both of them looked to Theron for guidance.

"I know of no such theory," he stated, looking to change the subject. "It is time to leave this place now. Jack, prepare the ship for travel."

With Theron's order, the spar was ended. _Jack does not know of Chance's history. I may have to inform him but I find myself reluctant to tell him such evil exists. Still, he is acquainted with evil from his puphood. I believe that he and this female could learn much from each other. Dinky dick… _Theron's chortle echoed down the hall following Jack as he made for the outside of the ship.

Turning to Chance, he ordered, "The before-flight duties are yours. I will join you on the bridge shortly." Chance hurried off, eager to again demonstrate her skills to her superior. It was good, in a way, to be commanded again. She relaxed into the security of the follower as she began doing the list of tasks.

Jack completed his scans of the ship's exterior hull and joined his Sire and Chance on the bridge. He noticed with a twang of jealousy that the female had taken what was usually his pilot's seat next to his father and had completed the pre-flight checks. It was normal, he supposed, for her to take the job as she was his superior in that she was Clan marked. He felt the pangs of being on the rim of adulthood, not yet a full Hunter but far, physically and mentally, from being a boy.

Jack was nearly ten years old when Theron had injected him with his own blood in order to save his life. The effects of that transfusion began to chance him over time. First he had a sudden growth spurt, and then he began to put on more muscle. He had been in fifth grade when in anger he had picked up a much larger, older boy and thrown him to the ground, snarling in rage and causing everyone on the school grounds to run away screaming.

It was then that his mother, Mel, had elected to remove him from the public system and home school him. But even she could not control his physical rages. Finally, Theron had stepped in to assume his training. By that time, all Jack's hair had fallen out and real locks had begun to grow. His human skin was slowly replaced with a covering of fine scales and his nails eventually turned to sharp talons. Even with the changes, Jack did not appear totally Yautja. He never grew mandibles and his skin was fair without mottling. But there was no doubt that he was definitely no longer just human.

His study time was divided between being at home with Melanie, who did indeed home school him and Theron's transport, where he trained. His Sire did not allow him to leave the ship when they were parked on Yaut as he would have faced challenges he was ill-prepared to respond to. Instead, Jack was coached in all subjects Yaut by the lessons accessed via the shipboard computer and trained to be a Hunter by Theron. From sparring in the kehrite to hunting in the jungle, Jack learned everything about being both a man and a Hunter.

When he reached sixteen years of age in Earth time, his parents approached him with a choice. Did he wish to pursue the human path or the path of the Hunter? Either would hold difficulties, as well as rewards. Jack talked with each of them about the challenges that a life on Earth or life among the Yautja might offer. In the end, Jack elected to become a Hunter, hoping that by earning honor he would offset his un-Yautja-like appearance and be allowed to partake in Clan society. To his surprise, Mel approved of his choice, telling him that Yautja society was orderly and honorable, whereas human society was very fickle with no particular rewards for the achievements of honor. She also told him that she would have backed either choice, one-hundred percent.

Theron was also pleased at Jack's choice and showed his support by training his son even harder. He explained to Jack that he must excel in every skill expected of a Hunter if he was to be accepted by the Clan. They must have no excuse to reject him. To Jack, it sounded like the Yautja could be as prejudiced as the humans. Of course, he did not mention his thoughts on that to his Sire. Instead, he steadied his resolve to Chiva and to become a Hunter of legend in the Clan.

The decision as to which society to try and join had also included consideration regarding Jack's acceptance as a male in each culture. On Earth, Mel had explained, women were or were not attracted to a man for all kinds of reasons. Jack realized that he was very different looking and perhaps would even be fearsome to many.

On Yaut, while he was no equivalent of some Hunter GQ type, the desirability of a male was nearly always based upon his genetic line, his abilities and his record. Jack thought those facts leveled the playing field in his favor. He had been attracted by girls of course – the ones he saw out the window or on television. However, he had never socialized with them, not since he had left grade school. His extreme concentration on training and learning had left little energy for anything else. Besides, he knew that any mating opportunities would be far in the future after his Chiva and after Yautja females were available. He would never force a human female into bearing his pup. This he had already decided at the tender age of twelve when he had finally understood what had happened to his mother and how his half-sister, Signý had come about. He would only seek out a human female who wanted him, like his mother wanted Theron. Now, at eighteen, he had not yet grasped that he had most likely committed himself to a life of celibacy.

The ship lifted off without incident and Theron placed it in a parking orbit. Turning to the Huntress he asked, "Now, how may we assist you?"

"I need to find my mother."

"Do you know where she is?"

"Not for certain. But I do know what part of Earth she came from and I believe that is probably where she would return."

"Good!" The Hunter nodded for her to continue.

"She lived in the area, the state called Michigan. She told me the name of the city was Bat-tell Creek." She rolled out the syllables very carefully.

"I do not know of such a place," Theron replied. "I only go to a place near Fruitport, near a large body of inland water. Jack? Can you help?"

Pleased to be called upon, Jack popped a map up on the display. "It is located here," he pointed to the dot labeled 'Battle Creek'. "We can follow the highways, Sire. I think we can figure it out from the air if we travel low and slow enough. Do you have a street address, Honorable Chance?"

"What is that?" A blank look formed in her eyes.

"It is the number of her house and the name of the street that she lives on. It may be a large task to locate her without it. Battle Creek is not large but it is still a good sized town."

"She doesn't live in a house," Chance almost wailed, "She always called her home an 'a-part-ment'."

"Did the apartment complex she lived in have a name?" Jack hopefully queried.

Chance ticked her tusks in thought. "Yes! She called it some kind of a park. It was…or-something park. Or…orch…no, or-chard park. Does that make any sense, Jack?"

"It does! We can look for an apartment complex named Orchard Park. But, Honorable Huntress, I do not think she will be there. Many Earth years passed while she was on Yaut. Her apartment lease, the right to live in the apartment, would have expired. Still, there may be someone there who knows her! It is a good place to start."

"Your plan has my approval," Theron stated dryly, appreciating that his offspring was enthusiastic about the mission, yet he had overrun the boundary between crew and mission Elder.

"Oh, a – yes, only with your approval, my Sire." Jack bowed in submission to his father.

"Your ideas are good, Jack," Theron said kindly, "Which of us shall go and inquire about where this place is, and also who will be the one to go and inquire about Duncan?"

"I am the best one to go, with your permission. I appear the most human."

"That is true; however, you are still going to scare someone, Jack. I think we need your Bearer's help on this one. Set the ship to travel to your Bearer's home, my Bloodline."

With more enthusiasm, Jack headed to the controls. _I wonder what Chance and Mom will think of each other? _He wouldn't have long to wait, it seemed, as Theron was already contacting Melanie. After exchanging endearments and information that all was well, Theron told her about Chance's search for one Sarah Duncan, who had been a police officer. Then, he seemed to be on hold for a time. Jack figured his mom was on the computer, searching for Chance's mom's name. He watched his Sire's face become a complete blank of deliberate control as he answered via the com, "You are certain? Yes, that sounds like the female that Chance has described and I have seen. Can you send me the link of where to find this? Yes…yes. I look forward to seeing you, also."

Theron completed the communication and went to the computer. Tapping in several commands he located what Mel had told him about – the web site of the city of Kalamazoo's newspaper. Searching through the site, he found what he was seeking and motioned for Chance to come over and see.

"Yes!" she became excited. "That is my mom's picture! But what does this say? I cannot read anything but Yautja."

"Jack," Theron ordered his son over to read. Proud to be the one to give Chance her Bearer's location, Jack sat down at the computer with a smile which quickly dissolved. He looked at his Sire with a questioning face but Theron only nodded for him to continue. Jack swallowed hard and began, "Sarah Luellen Duncan passed away on…" He never finished as Chance interrupted him.

"What does 'passed away' mean?" Nervous uncertainly tainted her scent.

"It means that she is dead, Honorable Chance." No one said anything as the head beneath the red locks absorbed the information.

"Dead? How?"

"This article says that she died from injuries she got in a car accident. I'm very sorry, Chance." He moved to lay his hand reassuringly on her shoulder, but she felt nothing. Tears welled up in her eyes and she turned away from them and headed toward her room. Jack took a step to follow her, but was stopped by his Sire's strong hand upon his shoulder.

"Let her be alone. There is nothing anyone can do to dull her grief. She must face it and decide what she wants to do from here."

Jack obeyed his Sire's directions immediately. "It may not be Yautja, but I feel very bad for her. She must feel very alone now and she never expressed any goal beyond finding her Mom. What can we do to help her?" He looked anxiously at his father, counting on his wisdom to somehow make things better.

"My offspring, like the humans, the Yautja have feelings. It is what we do about them that may differ. Chance is not alone. She is the accepted member of an entire Clan and thus our whole race. But it is up to her to understand this. We cannot make her see. We can only offer what is ours to offer. The choice to accept is solely hers."

"What IS ours to offer her?"

"I can offer to continue her training, if she wishes to advance. What you can offer is up to you, Jack."

"I will think on it. I appreciate your wisdom, my Elder and Sire." Jack nodded respectfully and excused himself to go off to his room and ponder what he might offer the hybrid Huntress that would be of benefit to her.

Inside her room, a shocked Chance lay weeping among the furs on her bed. Her world had just collapsed. Of what value was anything she had done without her mother around to appreciate it and to advise her? How could she go on without the rock of strength and wisdom that had been Sarah Duncan?


	14. Chapter Thirteen: The Best Laid Plans

_**Chapter Thirteen: The Best Laid Plans…**_

"_**No, I'm, I'm simply saying that life, uh... finds a way." – Jeff Goldblum as Dr. Ian Malcolm in Jurassic Park**_

Signý rubbed her belly in contentment as she gazed at the ceiling. Her first pregnancy was going well and she was fortunate enough to have been bred by a Healer who checked on her condition frequently. She twittered with contentment every time she visited him, the attentive, strong yet gentle, serious while possessed of a good humor, most honorable Hunter and Healer. He seemed to enjoy her company, yet she noticed that he held some part of himself in the polite social reserve expected of a Sire towards the Bearer he had impregnated.

She lay upon the hard metal examining table absently stroking her stomach as she watched Myn'dill review the scans and tests he had just conducted. He lifted a scaley hand to his face and ran a foretalon thoughtfully up and down his tusk. Then he returned to Signý's side, armed with a full syringe.

"What now?" Her face grimaced at the impending shot.

"Just routine. I must ensure that the pup is both female and Yautja in every way." Signý frowned as the needle plunged into her neck and then tried to rub the sting away after the injection was done.

"Myn'dill, I was just wondering. What if you didn't do anything? What if you just left our pup's development up to Paya?"

"You are half ooman, my mate. As Yautja as you are, undesirable characteristics might appear."

She pouted thoughtfully for a moment, "Undesirable characteristics?" He did not answer so she pondered this for a while as the Healer wrote down a few notes.

"Do you mean things like…my desire to be affectionate towards you?"

Myn'dill stopped as though he'd been struck and looked at her, the surprise easily read in his face and scent. It irked her when she felt that he treated her still as a pup.

"Do not look at me like I have become ill in the head! You **do** feel that way about me! I can scent it and read it in your behavior and expressions. You should know that it is difficult for me to hide the affection that I continually feel for you. Anyway, why should I? It would be dishonorable for me to lie."

Myn'dill watched her blood pressure rise on his instruments and sought to calm her. He rushed his truthful explanation, "You speak purely of your desire for physical closeness, and now that the mating cycle is over, your desire is…unusual in our kind. I have surmised that it is an expression of your ooman part coming through. Your desire for me is not unwanted, Signý. It is onlydifferent than what I have experienced and when we are in public, yes, I am uncomfortable with it."

"What about now, when we are alone together?" Her bright eyes shone their honest admiration of him.

"It still feels…awkward and unpracticed to me. But…it is not unwanted." He lifted his hand to touch her forehead and then ran it down her front side, only stopping to rest on her stomach as his mandibles widened to a smile. "I am a most fortunate Hunter to maintain the interest of his mate."

His touch warmed her heart and she placed her hand over his resting one. "Our pup grows strong. She will be great like her Sire."

"She will be brave, strong and beautiful like her Bearer."

Signý reached up to him from her tabletop. Myn'dill hesitated and then caught her up in his great arms to enjoy a few moments of closeness. She breathed in the fragrance that was uniquely his and felt his potency enclose her as, without warning, she intimately warmed and a longing rose from her body.

Suddenly, the Healer was holding her at arms length and searching her eyes. "Signý, you want me? But you are pregnant!"

"Is that odd?" She felt as though some unspoken law had been violated and all fingers were pointing to her. "Healer, is something wrong with me? Am I to deny my natural impulses just because I carry a pup?"

He shook his head, "This is most serious, Signý. Your feelings are pure, but they are another trait of being ooman. Ooman females do not have a rutting season. They are capable of desiring a mating anytime they choose. Some…some of our Hunters greatly value them for this."

"And do you value me, Myn'dill?"

"Sei, but I value you more than just for your ability to mate. I ask you, in great sincerity, do not speak of this to anyone but me. The High Council believes that the ooman traits have been shunted to the background so that you and your sisters will behave as true pure Yautja females. I do not know what they would make of this and I wish for no…no harm to come to you or to our pup."

"I will say nothing! But what am I to do? Continually relieve myself? It is just not the same you know."

"I will find a way, Signý, to come to you and be with you. I know of medications which will nearly eliminate the scent of our mating on each other. And, we will have to set certain limits because of our pup. We do not wish to harm her."

"Of course not! I await your visit with much anticipation," she growled lustily at him.

"Now go," he commanded her. "For Paya's sake, do NOT emit that scent again! I will visit you as soon as possible and bring the medication."

As she left, the Healer misted his room with a scent neutralizer before seeing his next patient._ I thought that we had calculated so carefully what must be done in order for our genes to be dominant over the ooman ones. What has gone wrong? Are the other females experiencing this or other things? My instinct to protect the Bearer of my pup must not cloud my judgment! Do not think as a YoungBlood, Myn'dill! _He hung his mandibles for a moment, as he felt the warmth still rushing to his loins, knowing that he already had.

* * *

The High Council Leader retreated to his private office after a tiring day of hearing testimony. Two of the Clans were in dispute over a planet that crossed different sections of each ones claimed space. The 'boundaries' had been created long ago on theoretical maps before that part of space had been visited by the Yautja. Rich with prime hunting grounds, this new planet was claimed by both parties who had brought the issue to the High Council for resolution. The winning Clan would have the right to charge any other Clan for the privilege of hunting there – or not allow them at all.

_In the cycles of long ago, their Hunters would have fought to the death to settle this. Sometimes, I tire of talk and would rather go back to the old ways. _He calculated the number of dead that such a battle might produce and understood again why the Clans had grown to prefer diplomacy.

Checking his com log he found an incoming message from Arndís. He smiled as he pressed the button that would play her communiqué. It was always a pleasure to hear the voice of this female that was obviously chosen by Paya to someday become the Matriarch. Her soft feminine rumble played to his hearing, "Honorable Ab'hey'a, I have the latest report from the Healer regarding our pup. It is most assuredly female and is growing well. She is normal in every way and is coming of size rapidly. I ask your aid in naming her. I know that to ask you is unusual, but I would be honored by your assistance."

The voice ended and the line closed abruptly. Ab'hey'a pursed his outer jaws in a grin. His pup was growing well and the Bearer had honored him by asking for his help in choosing her name. An excellent turn of events! Immediately, he pulled up long lists of the names of his fore bearers and sorted out the females. By reading of their deeds and accomplishments, he hoped to find a name worthy of his pup - for her to proudly carry into the future.

The list was lengthy. He shuffled through the stories of Miti-ya, Bu'tada'ta, Sanga, Ra'mada'ta and many more. Finally he found the name Ut'tara. It had been borne by a great Matriarch of the past in his Blood lineage. She had been an honored ruler and was celebrated in history for her wisdom as well as her beauty, which had been compared to a star._ A ruling star – that is what I wish for her, my new pup. Great Paya, may she be of great mental and physical strength. Strength as great as a star that shines its light out for immense distances and brings life to its planets! _

He looked at his schedule and saw that he was done for the cycle and had nothing pressing to do this evening. A visit to Arndís to deliver his chosen name for their pup would be most appropriate. This was far too important a message to deliver over the com! He would speak to his mate in the flesh and, he realized, would enjoy seeing her and being in her presence again.

They had not seen each other since the rut. Such was the usual way of male and female Yautja. Normally, Arndís and Ab'hey'a's paths did not cross and just because they had mated did not present any reason for them to change this. Arndís contacted him whenever she had news from the Healer of the pup's growth. It was usually via a message, as he was busy with the High Council. Although he enjoyed hearing her voice, it had never occurred to him to actually go see her. What would be the purpose of such a visit? But now, things had changed and he had a reason to go. But first, he would go to his dwelling and bathe. It would not take long to cleanse and change into a clean cloth and light armor. Perhaps my heavier Hunt armor would make a more imposing presence? The High Council Elder would take some time standing before his closet to pick out just the right skins and armor to wear. It would not do to appear before the probable nextMatriarch dressed simply as if she were of no importance.

The Elder had finally chosen the correct attire, dressed and set out to walk the not-too-far-distance to his mate's dwelling. It was a nicely warm day and he was soon joined by another High Council Elder who was also on his way to his female's quarters. They fell in together after the customary shoulder shake. "My Council brother," Ab'hey'a began, "Which Huntress carries your pup? I have forgotten who drew which name in our lottery, plus many of the females ended up mated to others than were chosen for them."

"Why, the female most likely to stand over us as our next Matriarch! It is she, Honorable Huntress Ulfrde, who carries my offspring." The High Elder's unseemly boasting made Ab'hey'a uncomfortable but he stayed polite.

"Why do you believe that she will be the next Matriarch?"

"Only because she is the best - the strongest, most skillful, the best Huntress, and the best at the spar among females. Why would she not win the highest position there is to offer?"

"What about the other skills necessary to be a Matriarch? Intellect, wisdom, an understanding of the law, knowledge of history? Not to mention level-headedness. From what I have heard, your Ulfrde is rather temperamental."

The crown of the questioned Elder began to rise to the potential challenge, but he scented nothing by curiosity from his Council Brother. "With greatness comes great passion. Her passion for our race and our law is unquestionable. Besides, who would dare challenge her ascension?"

"We shall see," muttered back Ab'hey'a as he carefully controlled his scent. "This is my destination, have a good visit with your mate and her pup-to-be." He nodded politely to the other, even as his mind burned. _How can he be so certain that Ulfrde would win. Does she even desire to be Matriarch? Is he putting the idea into her head? I have watched Arndís and her sister fight. It is usually a draw. But if they were to go against each other for such a prize? I would fear for Arndís and our pup! Fear? Sei, fear!_

He hurried on, anxious to be with the female. Somehow, he must find a way to speak to her about what he had just learned. Bounding up the stairway, he announced himself and was allowed to enter. There she stood to greet him in all her regal splendor. She wore soft nearly-white furs as a loincloth and loose top. They contrasted with her brownish-black spotted body and shining, recently oiled, black locks. Her natural inclination towards elegance had always set her apart from her sisters.

"Honorable Arndís," he bowed in submission to her. "How do you fare? How is our pup?"

"We are both well! I am pleased to see you Honorable Ab'hey'a." She did not rudely ask him the purpose of his visit, but they both knew that she was waiting for an explanation. "Would you like a drink?"

"H'ko. But I would like to share with you the name I have arrived at for our pup." Arndís looked delighted and waited for him to go on. "I studied the ancestral names in my Bloodline and arrived at the name Ut'tara. It means to have great beauty and strength as does a star. Do you approve of it?"

"Ut'tara. Sei! It is a good name. I will be most honored to seal our pup with this name. I shall look in our history for the name in your Bloodline as I am anxious to read of her deeds."

"She was a Matriarch, Arndís. A great Matriarch."

The Huntress nodded her understanding. "Just as I hope to be one day. I hope to help guide the Yautja along the best path for the future."

"Arndís, what if there was a challenge to your claim?"

"A challenge? From who?"

"Oh, from one of your sisters. I was only contemplating. What would you do?"

"Well, I would fight her I guess. But I would find myself loathe to kill her. My sisters and I are very… we respect each other greatly. I would ask my sister just why she felt that she should lead and I would listen. If she were to convince me that her attributes were greater than mine, I would step aside for the good of all."

"You know it is our way that if there are multiple candidates for Matriarch, only the winner of a contest may claim the title."

"What kind of contest?"

"Arndís! We are Yautja. There is only one contest – the arena."

"Surely my sisters would not fight one another pregnant!"

"It has been done in the times before this time. Your bodies are strong. Pups are protected so early-on in their growth. I have even witnessed a blade cut to the womb that healed and the pup was born healthy, but with a scar to show for the adventure!"

"But what if that Huntress and her pup had died?"

"What life will the loser of such a contest have? In the old way, it was better for them not to add their genes to our subsequent generations. In the old times, the fight was always to the death."

Arndís was jarred as she heard this information with great pain in her heart. Yes, she had learned in her lessons that there had been fights to decide the Matriarch. But she had never thought it would involve her and one of her sisters. _It has to be Ulfrde! _To kill one of her sisters just to obtain the Matriarchy? She did not think she had it inside her. It would be only a waste, she concluded. _I have always believed that I would be Matriarch someday. But not at the price of killing Ulfrde! What is the purpose of such an exercise? Why should one of us die just to satisfy tradition? Is the fact that the winner is stronger in that moment really that significant? The one she has beaten may have genes that are just as strong. But only one can win a fight. And why is the value of the Matriarch only placed in her ability to win at fighting? What about other valuable skills such as diplomacy or the ability to see how all the moving parts make a whole? The ability to think your way out of a situation, not just cut your way out of it! And yet I fear to say these things to my mate and High Elder. What would he think of these novel ideas? Would he accuse me of being too human? I don't know? Am I more of a thinker than the average Yautja? Or is it my humanity showing through? How can I tell?_

* * *

Huntress Ulfrde stood before the mirror and tried to be angry at what had happened_. He tricked me! He knew how I would react to his musk. He deliberately baited me! _But then she remembered the exquisite pleasure he had given her, as well as his gift of life within her womb and patted her belly fondly._ And to think that I didn't want a pup! You are my most precious treasure, little one. Grow safely within me. Grow big and strong until you are ready to join the Clans! _

She did feel tricked, almost as though her body had betrayed her mind. But she was also pragmatic. What was done was done. The most amazing part of her new reality was that she was pregnant. The hormones of motherhood flooded her system as she grew protective towards the little cluster of cells dividing within her. Healer Sig'dan had assured her that the pup was growing normally, all was well, and he had given her permission to resume normal activities. With his blessing she headed towards the kehrite.

It was one of the many public arenas that dotted the great city and provided the populace with a formal setting for exercise, sparing and resolving minor quarrels. Ulfrde flexed her arms and legs and began warming up in the way she had been taught by her Trainers. Her body felt tight but relaxed as she stretched and moved. The familiar warm feeling of wellbeing that always came with exercise flooded her body and made her feel at ease. _I had not realized what tension I was holding in my body,_ she reflected, then picked up her wrist blades and began the formal exercise. As she slung, swiped and sweated across the floor, a certain High Elder silently made his way to a spectator bench and watched. He could see her awkward stiffness melt away as she performed the familiar movements and appreciated it as her grace grew. He concluded, as she continued across the floor, that in spite of her youth she had already been made into a formidable opponent – although he had some actual experience in fighting her. When she was fully grown, there might be no one, male or female, who could oppose her.

_The Elder Arbitrator's blood comes through strong in this one. The pup she bears me will no doubt inherit a fine physique and fighting ability. I will command much respect for the worthiness of my pup. How much more could I garner if the Bearer of my pup was the Matriarch?_

The Elder clicked a few times, relaying his presence to the still fighting Ulfrde. She did not move to recognize him, but both knew that she was aware of him. The Huntress was a whirling wind, striking out in all directions with an unYautly combination of speed and grace. Her foe might well be distracted to his death from just watching her. Ulfrde continued to battle invisible Hard Meats that attacked her from every possible direction. She stabbed up into the belly of one, then pulled it down and rammed its unholy carcass into the one at her feet, then tossed both off her blades as she sliced through the necks of the ones in front and behind her. The end of the fight came with a pile of invisible acid-bleeding bodies stacked around her as she stood heaving for air, a trickle of sweat running down her shoulder over the enticing scar. She often bared the shoulder when not in an actual hunt or combat in order to show off its attractiveness.

Her imaginary kills vanished as she finally caught her breath and walked over to the waiting Sire. Exchanging a shoulder shake, he inquired, "You are well, Honorable Ulfrde?"

"As you have observed," she replied, then added, "Our pup is growing well also. The Healer has cleared me for normal life."

"Your normal would be a challenge for many," he offered.

She did not answer but began to break down and clean her weapon. The Hunter offered her a flask of water that he had thoughtfully carried to the arena. She accepted gratefully and slugged it down. After wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she returned the container.

"Honorable Huntress, I wish to ask you a question."

"Sei," she nodded, giving him the go ahead.

"I do not know if you realize how much I admire you. There is greatness in you. Greatness that I expect will be passed on to our pup."

Ulfrde was momentarily caught by this high praise. To be told of your greatness by a member of the High Council was a complement of note. "Sire of our offspring, I admit that your flattery has caught my hearing, but I know that I have much training and practice ahead before I can truly deserve the word 'great'." She bowed her head in a signal of humility.

"Sei, there is still time to learn and time to grow – for us all. But I think that it would be a shame, no, a great waste if you were not to live up to your true potential. I would always look upon you and think what might have been if you had not feared to seize your true position in our society."

A low growl had begun in her throat at the accusation of fear, but it came out as a question, "And what position might that be?"

"You don't know?" She gave him a blank stare.

"Matriarch. That is the only position suitable to your talents."

Ulfrde's eyes grew wide at his idea, "I…I have never thought of such a goal for myself. There are others more suited to diplomacy and with the temperament to rule."

"Diplomacy is learned, Honorable Ulfrde. And what is the temperament to rule except the accumulation of wisdom? You have shown that you are very capable of learning, and you grow wiser each cycle. I am not the only one to have noticed this."

She felt a crack begin in her current plan for herself. _Me? The Matriarch? I had thought that I would bear pups and take breaks to rejoin the hunt, or perhaps bargain to take some cycles off from bearing and join missions to tackle worthy prey. No one is more suited to the chase than me._

As if reading her thoughts, the Elder continued, "There are those of us who feel that the Matriarchy has, out of necessity of course, swayed away from the ideal set for us by our historical Matriarchs of note. Such a female should be the pinnacle of all we are. She lives by the law and walks in paths of honor. She is not weak, but strong. She gains her status not by appointment or bargaining, but in the ancient way. She fights for it. Only the strongest and most skilled of all the females should bear the title of Matriarch. It is her that we serve without question. Only she is honorable enough to command our full respect and loyalty. Most Honorable Ulfrde, it has been long since the title has been worn by such a female. Will you respect the ways of the Yautja? Will you seek the spear that only you can carry?"

Ulfrde was almost made breathless by his words. There was flattery of course, but there was also a grain of truth in that she had uncovered an idea buried deep in the back of her mind, an idea so base, so primal that it was the foundation for many other ideas and emotions. It was a small pellet of envy. Ulfrde knew that Arndís had always been the perfect candidate for the matriarchy in her mind - smooth-talking, politically astute, and ever calm, yet a good Huntress who had honorably taken trophies. It was her sister, Arndís, who had always occupied that space label 'future Matriarch' in Ulfrde's mind. But the chink in the wall of expectations had been made.

"This is…unexpected. I will…think on it."

"Good! Do that. Think about the honor our society deserves and just who is best suited to deal from the seat of strength and honor and respect for the old and proven ways." She nodded to him and took her leave. It was time for a long hot soak and some thinking. She went to her private bath rather than the public one, in order to be undisturbed.

Immersed in the hot soak up to her chin, Ulfrde considered the High Council Elder's words, along with her own feelings. _It is true that I have wished that I possessed some of my sister's abilities. If a Matriarch could be named who was a combination of both of our traits, what a history-making female she would be! But why should I wish to have what my sister possesses? We are each unique and cultivate what Paya has given us. It is not our way to be jealous of another's greater skill. We should be inspired by it. What has arisen in me? Has some part of my ooman side unfolded? My Bearer has spoken to be before of the jealously of her kind._

Ulfrde stopped dead in her thoughts. Never, ever before had she thought of her mother in terms of 'her kind'. Her mother had always been one with the Yautja. The full realization that her Bearer was an alien bloomed in her consciousness and, along with it, the realization that she was half that. _Great Paya!I am not the recreated Yautja female. It is THROUGH me and my offspring that she will be recreated. _Sadness overcame her as she soaked in this truth. Her "Yautja-ness' was engineered and appeared true on the outside, but inside, who knew what had melded together out of the blending of Huntress and human?

_And yet, with me or Arndís on the throne of the Matriarch, our race would at least be served by one of half Yautja blood, instead of none. IT SHOULD BE ME! _The thought shoved back into her mind from some unknown recess. Ulfrde considered that the ways passed on to the present generation by their ancestors should be respected. _Although all of my sisters are eligible for the Matriarchy, it should only be rewarded to the fittest – the ideal Huntress! _Excitement grew within as she pondered this, wondering how on Yaut any Elder on the High Council could refute such an idea.

* * *

Sig'dan entered the Consort's quarters and was greeted warmly. "My honored Bloodline, it is good to be with you!"

"It is good to be with you again also, my Sire." Sig'dan nodded in submission to the great Elder Arbitrator.

"Have a drink, Sig'dan. There are important things that we must speak of." Elder Aldúlfr poured large mugs of c'ntlip for them both, and then joined his offspring at the stone table. "May life be more victorious than it is long!" he toasted as his son raised his mug to join his father.

"That is a new toast to my hearing," Sig'dan declared, after quaffing most of his drink.

"I just made it up," admitted Aldúlfr. "But it is appropriate for the words that I speak."

Healer Sig'dan waited patiently as his Sire cleared his throat and stared thoughtfully at his cup for a few moments. He knew it was important to gather your thoughts before you began to talk.

"Myn'dill came to me this morning with disturbing news. Sal'lee's body is beginning to fail." He watched his son's face carefully as he delivered the news.

"I…I knew it was just a matter of time before the latest round of medications began to be ineffective. Does she know?"

"He has spoken to her of it. He says that she is most accepting of her impending demise. He believes that she even welcomes it."

"She is tired, my Elder." Sig'dan looked momentarily away as if remembering something, then looked back to his Sire who spoke to him again.

"I considered that you might be angry that Myn'dill came to me first, rather than to you."

"H'ko. You are Consort. It was proper for you to know first," Sig'dan answered flatly.

"My most honored offspring, it would normally be my place, but considering your...your bond with her, I ask that you would go to her and ask what she wishes to be done."

"I will, my Sire. I am grateful that you ask me to do this. But understand that her ways are not our ways. Deep down inside she may still be ooman. She may wish to return to die on her planet."

"Perhaps. We will honor whatever her wishes are." The Consort bowed his head, "I will miss her."

"Sei. We will do whatever she asks of us. That is what honor demands." Sig'dan prepared to leave, and then looked back at his Sire, "There are no words to express what I will feel when she is no longer here."

"Do not forget, Sig'dan, that a new Matriarch must be chosen. That is her final responsibility."

"I will not forget," the Healer tossed over his shoulder as he left the room.


	15. Chapter Fourteen: A Matter of Choice

**Chapter Fourteen: A Matter of Choice**

"_When you make a choice, you change the future."__―__Deepak Chopra_

She had fought the expression of her deep sorrow while in front of Theron and his son. Once alone in the guest room her eyes became faucets as the expression of deep sorrow could be dammed no more. Falling upon the bed, she cried out her broken-heartedness for the one who had always been there and now was no more. She felt shattered inside. It was as if something had cored a great hole in her soul, leaving a longing that could not be satisfied in its place. Finally her eyes ran dry and the Huntress reluctantly fell asleep on the tear-drenched furs of her bed. Once unconscious, she slept on undisturbed. Respecting her need for privacy at this time, no one had requested entrance to check on her, so her body rested even as her mind cycled through the levels her sorrowful state permitted. After a long time, she semi-awakened to turn with a sob and, never really reaching consciousness, went back into an even deeper sleep.

The loss of a family member was a time when the Yautja gave each other the gift of aloneness and space. Too much public mourning was considered weak, and so mannerly Hunters left each other in solitude out of regard and to save face. An uneducated human might think that they were being ignored or shunned by this expression of Yautja manners.

Theron's transport remained cloaked and in orbit, waiting for the Huntress to rejoin him and say where she wanted to go. Having been educated by Sally as to Chance's plight, the gray Hunter was willing to take her back to Yaut, or find somewhere for her on the Blue Planet – whichever she desired. He did not consider that she might make any other decision.

Meanwhile, Jack was exercising in the ship's kerhite and thinking about the passenger sleeping in the guest quarters. As he ran through a series of limbering and strengthening motions that his Sire had taught him, he considered how horrible it would be to lose his mother in a car accident. Of course he was old enough to begin to understand that death eventually comes to all. But not while his Mom was still so vibrant and young! How unfair that would be! He remembered from the obituary that Chance's Bearer was not young but he realized that it was still a most difficult thing to deal with. _My feeling sorry for her won't help one bit. I believe the best thing I can do is try to be her friend – if she stays on Earth. It would be nice to have a friend again. It's been so long since I was in public school. _

Jack had grown considerably since the day that Theron had pulled him back from Cetanu's doorway through an injection of his own blood. With the boy's growth coming in incredible spurts, he had put on considerable size with great muscle and was not done with his metamorphosis yet. Smiling, with a slight show of pointy white teeth, he remembered the day that he had gone through all of the shirts in his closet, tearing the shoulders open as he put each one on in an attempt to find one that would fit. Feeling like The Incredible Hulk, he'd taken the new pile of rags downstairs to present to his mother. "Nothing fits," he had announced. Melanie ended up purchasing new shirts from the thrift shop because he outgrew them so fast. He could presently only be outfitted at the men's big and tall shop.

_A Hunter's attire is much more comfortable! I feel less and less at ease around people anymore. The more I change the more stares I get. My face is still a man's, but my hair sure isn't! Neither is my forehead. And I'm already larger than most men, even though I'm not yet full grown. _

_Strong as I am, Theron says I'm not ready to face a Hunter yet. I wonder if I ever will be. I guess it depends on how big I get – or maybe how fast. Nobody's faster than Theron! Will he ever be impressed with my performance?_

Jack realized he was daydreaming and refocused on his workout, knowing he would feel like a stupid pup if his Sire caught him. The sweat of his labor ran down his forehead and into his eyes. For just a moment, Jack envied the protrusion of Theron's prominent brow.

* * *

Only the darkness of the room greeted Chance's eyes when they finally cracked open. Reaching for the light control, she did not know how long she had slept or what time it might be. Rubbing her eyes she found them puffy and sore. Easing slowly from the bed, she creaked over to a mirror. _I feel like an old woman today. Damn girl! Your eyes look like two burnt holes in a loin cloth! And my brain feels as foggy as the halls of this ship._

Doing something routine seemed the best non-thinking option, so she padded to the shower. She was so stiff and slow - it felt like the morning after she had run completely around the city of Yaut for the first time. She let the warm spray fall onto the top of her head and cascade down between her ruddy locks to then rivulet over the rest of her. Time seemed to pause in the shower, leaving only the sensation of warmth covering her and then leaving her body as if it were draining away some of the pain and sorrow over Duncan's death. The heaviness began to leave her body as her head slowly cleared and she realized that there was no more crying to be done. She was on her own now. It was solely up to her what path to choose – where to live – what to do with her life. It was also plainly obvious to Chance that she didn't have a clue as to what choice to make. Not yet, anyway. _I need some time to pull myself together and make my decisions. These are not choices to be made on a whim. I must consider things carefully. _

Slowly, but with new determination, she dried and clothed herself, then went out to see if anyone else was about. Consulting her wrist computer, she found that it was very early in the next cycle. Jack and Theron might not even be awake yet. Quietly, she crept to the galley and got herself a drink. The water refreshed her as she had not drunk since the morning before. Then she went to the arena to do some mild stretching and was surprised to find Jack there.

"Good Morning," he beamed at her from the middle of his warm-up. "Uh, how are you?"

"Morning," she replied, "I am okay, I guess. Is Honorable Theron up yet?"

"Yes. He is doing a check on some of our backup systems. We'll have breakfast soon. Are you hungry?"

"No, maybe I will be later."

"Well…good, then." Jack seemed quite awkward as if he did not know where to take the conversation next. Chance was not doing anything to encourage the exchange of words, so he gathered that she might not feel like talking. Therefore, he went on about his normal routine.

The Huntress lamely finished her stretching and then set off to find Theron. Perhaps she could be of some assistance to him. It would be better than doing nothing, better than her sorry workout and much better than trying to talk to Jack. She found the gray Hunter below the main deck, breaking down part of a drop tube to inspect its rudimentary guidance system. He nodded, recognizing her presence, but did not address her. Chance waited until he had completed his work and replaced the cover on the side of the small ship that was little more than a slightly steerable missile.

"May I be tasked with duties?" she inquired of Theron. He grunted his approval and responded without looking at her, "The galley needs a thorough cleansing and a sharp eye to keep it functioning well. My offspring and I will be there for the morning meal soon."

Her face did not betray any emotion at his orders. He had deliberately given her something light and mindless to do. She had hoped to perhaps help with some of the workings of the ship. KP duty, as her mom called it, was not her favorite chore. Suddenly remembering that her mother was dead, she stuffed down her feelings and headed to the ship's small kitchen, leaving behind a thin trail of sorrow.

Once in the galley, she located the disinfectant and began wiping down all the surfaces, the scent of the liquid making her nose area wrinkle. Then she took out a haunch of the bear that the males had killed and cut the meat into large chunks for everyone's breakfast. She put it out on platters to warm a bit before they ate it. Cold meat did not carry much flavor, so bringing it to room temperature made for much better eating. She then poured flasks of water and placed it all on the table. That could have been the end of it, but Chance looked around for more to do. Wondering what rations the ship carried, she went back to see about examining and rearranging the food store. Anything that had spoiled was thrown in the incinerator. With great efficiency she went through everything in cold storage, as well as the dry storage. Insuring that all items were properly labeled and secured made an easy hum of busyness in her mind that stood-in for a kind of normalcy. As she fixed the latch on a container, she heard the Hunters come into the room.

Theron was pleasantly surprised to find that breakfast had been prepared them. His passenger, Chance, had taken her simple duties most seriously. He had been hoping that an easy task would assist her in feeling better. Remembering an Earth saying that Mel had taught him, "An idle mind is the devil's playground," or something like that, he thought, _what would the ooman devil find to do with an idle Yautja? _Nothing good, he was quite certain.

The group ate quietly together in the manner of Yautja, focusing on the food and drink in front of them until they were sated. As much as they consumed, Hunters normally did not overeat when food was plentiful. Being evolved predators, they came from ancestors for whom food was sometimes sparse. So in tough times, they killed and then ate all they could pack inside, in the knowledge that they would not eat again until they managed another kill. Now that they managed Yaut's resources and could travel through space to hunting preserves, food was always abundant.

When the ancestors of the Yautja were still quite primitive, hunting for food among the many formidable beasts of their planet was a serious undertaking where only the fit, skilled and sometimes lucky would prevail. It was not uncommon to be gravely injured or even killed while attempting to procure a meal. Thus the values of bravery, skill and honor had acquired their roots in this hunter/gatherer society and had been honed over the great stone of time into first a code and finally a set of laws complete with enforcers.

It was between this society and the largely inexperienced Earth that Half-breed Chance struggled to choose between. Her mind had been in a quandary after hearing of the death of her mother over whether to continue to Earth and take her chances there, or continue on the path of the Huntress that she had already begun. For now, it was still an unanswered question in her mind. She did not feel that she fit in either place, in either society. Yaut she knew from experience and Earth she knew from her mother's tales. She was sure there was much more to learn about the Blue Planet, but without her mother to guide her she was very unsure about just how she could even attempt a life there. She also reflected that with Theron as her guide, she might yet find a place among the Yautja. So as the meal was consumed, she went back and forth in her thoughts, still finding herself unable to make a clear decision.

When the meal was finished, Chance rose to clear the table and do a final cleanup of the galley. With a nod from Theron, Jack got up and assisted her. Chance had an assignment, but she was not Aseigan and it would not do to have her serving anyone of a lower rank.

"Honorable Huntress," Theron addressed her, before he left to do his customary survey of how the ship was running from the bridge. "I would speak with you when you have completed your task. I will be monitoring the propulsion and guidance controls."

She nodded to show she had heard him and would comply, and then returned her attention to cleaning dishes. In a friendly manner, Jack tried to strike up a conversation. "Are you feeling any better?"

The red-locks framed her face in a contrast of calm paleness and the fury of fire. "I accept what has happened. And as for how I feel? My feelings are my own – and private."

"Oh. I, uh, I wasn't trying to pry, Honorable Huntress. I was just...talking. You know, trying to see if you were…okay." Jack fumbled around for words, sensing that the female before him was growing more and more irritated with his efforts. Still, the feeling remained that he should try to comfort her so he ventured another attempt on a different subject.

"It isn't easy, you know, on Earth for anyone who is different."

"Just how would YOU know?" Chance hissed back.

Jack responded matter-of-factly, "I know because I was raised there. My mom is human too – just like yours. And as you can see – I'm not your average human." He tried to calmly maintain his dignity in the face of Chance's obvious disbelief. This Huntress was not making it easy to be around her!

"Well. I wouldn't know about that. I've never seen a human male, or should I say boy, before! So there!" The immature words flew from her mouth before they could be captured. It was the Huntress' turn to feel uncomfortable at her own rudeness and misjudgment of this UnBlood. Her green eyes stared at him while Jack stood his ground and made no reply. He would not lower himself to her level by responding. He kept his gaze calm and upon her, while not staring her directly in the eyes. Eventually, her glares changed to a cool reconnoiter while the minutes ticked by and she found politer words to say.

Finally, Chance spoke again, "You are…very different that the young men I have known before. I would like to hear of your experiences of being different while living on Earth. They might be helpful in figuring out where to continue my life. Do you think your Sire would allow it?"

"I'd be honored to tell you, Huntress! We must ask his permission, of course. I bet he'll agree."

"Since it is my request, I will ask." She started down the hall, her strong stride carrying her past Jack without as much as a glance or word of farewell. Her footsteps stopped as though she had just realized her repeated rudeness and turned back around to face him. "Jack. I appreciate your consideration. I've not been around many considerate males. But I sense no deceit…or anything bad in you."

He dropped his head down in reply, trying to convey that he had heard her and also that he meant no harm. If anyone needed a friend right now, it was this red-locked female! Jack felt very useful and honorable in trying to assist her. His mom had always told him about the virtue of helping others. As he watched her walk down the corridor to speak with his father, he thought, s_he is certainly different than any girl I've met before. I should say woman, I guess – no, Huntress. There is something about her I like! In spite of how rude she's been to me, well, until she found out I could tell her about being different on Earth. I didn't smell any ill intent towards me, but she's a crafty one. I think it would be smart to keep my guard up around her. Not sure why, just a gut feeling. Theron says I should honor those. What in the world would she have scented about me that would be 'bad'?_

* * *

The gray Hunter was satisfied that his checks had found nothing amiss with the ships controls or the automated program that was now acting as navigator and pilot. The ship continued rounding the Earth, still fully cloaked from any prying eyes. They had plenty of supplies and could stay in orbit for many cycles before needing to head back to Yaut. However, Theron hoped that the Huntress would make a quick decision as he did not relish the boredom of relentless orbit.

He looked up to see her enter and nod to him cordially. _She appears to be calm. I wondered how she would feel about being left along with Jack, but she seems undisturbed. _As she came closer he huffed to take in her feelings and discovered that while not upset, she had recently been what he would classify as 'tense'. _That makes sense considering her history. I should probably be more careful of leaving them alone together – for Jack's sake. _

"Honorable Theron," she addressed him, "I have thought about what I should do and it is very clear that I am not ready to choose between living on Earth and living on Yaut. So I would ask your permission to live on this ship. I would be honored if I could continue to train with you, my Elder. And I believe that I have much to learn from Jack because his situation is like mine. I ask your permission to learn from him about the Blue Planet and what it is like to live there as a hybrid. In return, I can tell him about my life on Yaut."

Theron was quite surprised at the maturity of her request. _Knowing what you do not know is a great insight. _"I agree to your requests, Honorable Chance. Understand that this ship does travel between the Blue Planet and Yaut. We will make port on both planets. As a marked Huntress, you may disembark as you please on either planet. But Jack must stay on the ship when we are on Yaut. When we are on the Blue Planet, he leaves the ship and visits his Bearer. You may also leave the ship, but you must cloak! It will be Jack's Bearer's decision if you are welcome in her dwelling. Her name is Mel-a-nee and she is my mate. There will be times when she will visit this ship and we will request to be left alone. Do you understand?"

"Sei, Honorable Theron" Chance seemed unconcerned about the living arrangements. "May I have other assignments besides the galley?"

At this, the gray Hunter let go a hearty chitter. "Sei. I will work up a set of appropriate assignments for you and return the galley to Jack."

"Jack was in charge of the galley?" Surprise was not hidden upon her face.

"Sei. Is something wrong?"

"H'ko."

"I scent your mild deception and insist upon honesty when it comes to my offspring!"

"Nothing is wrong. It is only that I believe he could use some instruction in how to organize the food store."

"Then that is your first assignment. And if it carries over to his quarters here and at his home, his Bearer and I will be most grateful!"

Chance gave her nod of understanding and submission. "I am the one who is grateful, Honorable Trainer."

"Go then. See what you can teach him. And Chance – his life up to this point has been only study and training. For my own reasons, I have not yet taught him anything about…about females…or about mating. His Bearer HAS taught him about those things from a human perspective. He is intelligent, educated and yet, in some ways, still naïve. I would not want him to be enlightened. At least not yet. Do you understand?"

The Huntress was amazed by what she had just heard. _So Jack doesn't know…Jack Shit? At least his Sire doesn't think he knows. But I'm sure Theron would detect any lies from him. Well, he won't learn a crap about any of THAT from me!_

"I understand. On my honor - our discussions will only be about his experiences upon his planet or questions he has about life on Yaut. Excluding females and mating of course. If he brings those things up, I will direct him to you."

"Good! You may go now." Theron reflected upon Chance's request to stay on the ship and learn from himself and his offspring. _Hearing about Yaut from another's point of view could be an excellent learning for Jack. His Bearer has told him some, and I have told him much, but this will be from another who is also hybrid. I am not a superstitious Hunter, but it has crossed my mind that Paya is wise and that this comes at a good time in both my offspring and Chance's lives._

* * *

Chance followed the scent trail where it led back to Jack's quarters. She tapped the com and was granted entrance. Inside the sparse room, she noted the bed, with furs in disarray, and the clothing store with many drawers half open and various bits of clothing peeking out. The trophy wall contained the newly polished bear skull, along with quite a few other skulls and bones from Earth creatures as Jack had not yet been taken off-world to hunt. The sound of showering was coming from an alcove in the corner, and Chance realized she had intruded. Rather than say anything, she quickly left the room.

Inside the shower, young Jack was scrubbing the sweat of his workout away. He had heard the com sound and, figuring it was his Sire, had pushed the entry button. Jack rinsed off quickly as he did not want to keep Theron waiting. He pushed the control and the shower head turned into a warm jet of air, making him acceptably dry within a few minutes. Grabbing a nearby clean cloth, he emerged and dressed before looking up to…nothing. No one was in the room. Perplexed, he scented the air and found the fragrance of Chance floating about. _I should have asked who was there. Not used to having company on the ship. I guess she saw I was in the shower and left. Wonder what she wanted. Was she…embarrassed? Uh, did she see me naked? _

Jack felt his face flush in self-consciousness as a thousand thoughts rushed in. _Can't blame anyone but myself. Theron says that humans are too ashamed of their bodies and that on Yaut there are public baths where everyone is naked. She's a Huntress and probably didn't give a rat's ass if she did see me! What does she look like naked? She's pretty in a way. I like her red locks, and that she has lips. But her face looks kinda strange with no nose. What does she think of me? What would it feel like to kiss her? Would her mandibles get in the way? Great way to get a tusk up the nose. Best mind your thoughts Jack – she's a full Huntress and you are an UnBlood. Not even in the same league! And just when do I get to Chiva? _

Leaving his room, Jack began to look for the Huntress and located her sitting in the galley. "I've been waiting for you," she began. "I have an assignment from your Sire to teach you how to organize the food stores."

Jack raised both eyebrows in surprise. What the hell was important about organizing food? Why had his Sire given him such a paltry thing to learn as if he were still a child? He hated feeling like a pup around her. A stupid little kid about to be taught something that he would surely never use in real life. And what was wrong with the way he had previously arranged the food?

"Come," she asked him. "Look." She pointed to the containers of food on the shelves.

"Okay," he retorted, feeling foolish.

"What do you see?"

"Uh…food." His reply was met by a whack on the back of his head. "Hey! Stop that!" his voice rose at her.

"Look again," she commanded. "What do you see?"

Looking more closely, Jack realized that all the containers had been labeled. At a glance you could understand their contents. "Someone, I presume you, wrote the name of what is in the container on each one."

"Sei. What else?"

He looked again and saw the containers neatly stacked one on top of the other. "Uh…I think they are maybe stacked better?"

"Without a doubt. What else?"

"What do you mean what else? There is the food and it's named and…what do you want me to see?"

Another whack was delivered to the back of Jack's head. This time, he raised his hand as if to strike back.

"Go ahead. Make my day." Chance repeated a phrase of her mother's and grimly stared Jack down. Slowly, he lowered his hand as he saw and scented the Huntress' growing rage.

"Sorry. Just instinct."

"Uncontrolled instincts such as that would have you killed on Yaut. If you EVER raise your hand to me again, Pup, be prepared to find your ass on the floor! Got it?"

"'K," he mumbled back, looking at his feet. His brain burned with embarrassment and even a bit of fear. He truly wanted to hit her but that would probably earn him a solid beating from her. There was only a little doubt in his mind that she might be able to do it.

She called his attention back to the lesson. "Now study the food containers again. Is there a method to how they are sequenced?

Slowly, Jack's eyes roved the food, grateful she had dropped him a bone. "Yes! I see it! They are organized by the kind of food – the dried bear meat is all together, the dried deer meat, the nuts. It's…it's organized very well."

"Good! Now look in the frozen store."

Jack opened the freezer and saw the organization there. Where he had thrown it all in without care, Chance had grouped things together. "I see that you have arranged the meat by creature. No more hunting for the last of the deer meat!" His good humor had returned and he grinned at her. Chance ignored his charming smile and continued with her duty.

"Correct! Now you will know when you need to replenish any particular type of fresh meat. What other benefits are to be had from this organization?"

Disappointed by her lack of warmth to his friendly gesture, Jack had to think a minute. "Uh…you can see what you have easier. When you want something specific, it is easier to find. I can't think of anything else."

"When someone else must cook from your galley, they can easily see what is there to prepare without having to unload damn near half the food store!"

Young Jack looked down in renewed embarrassment. Mom had always told him he was a slob but as long as he kept his door closed, she didn't try and make him clean his room.

"Do you think that you can organize something now?"

"Well, I could organize a food store – just like this."

"Anything else?"

Jack thought for awhile. "I can't come up with anything."

"I can. Come." She took off walking with Jack trailing her wake. Walking behind her he enjoyed her distinctive scent. It was certainly not like his mother's, or like any girl back at school. He remembered when he had first begun to notice smells…

He had awakened earlier than usual on a school day. Something was assaulting his nostrils to the point that it had awakened him. With a 'whew!' he departed his bed and sniffed around his bedroom until he found yesterday's socks wadded up on the floor near his shoes. He'd been very active yesterday and the socks held a day's worth of kid sweat. Picking up one sock, he tentatively took a whiff, gagged and threw it back to the floor.

After showering and dressing he came downstairs to eat breakfast. As he descended the stairs, the scent of warm cooked oatmeal and brown sugar grasped his nostrils and pulled him to the breakfast table. "Wow," he had remarked. "This smells and tastes so great this morning!" His mother had just smiled and he had not thought anymore of it until later.

Later in the classroom he realized something was very different with his sense of smell. He was at his desk near the back and had closed his eyes as the teacher read something to all of them. The room's numerous odors comingled and suddenly filled his nose with such complexity! Slowly, he realized that he could take the aroma apart and he began to identify what he smelled. It was each of his classmates! Every one of them had a distinctive smell and so did the teacher! He spent the day in amazement checking out every person he came near.

The teacher nearly sent him home with allergies or a cold due to his constant audible sniffing. He learned to quiet it and discovered he could follow the trails of someone's smell through the air. It was the first of many discoveries he would make as the genetics of Theron invaded his body and altered him.

Chance broke his reverie by stopping right in front of Jack's room, "Shall we enter?" He punched his privacy code and they stepped into the space. The Huntress' head turned this way and that as she scanned the messy room. Clothing was strewn about along with personal items. The table was covered with what she could only classify as 'stuff'. The only neatness in the room was the trophy wall strung with the evidence of Jack's growth as a Hunter. She took a moment to appreciate the collection of skulls, teeth and bones. The grouping was neat, but it lacked a certain artistic touch. Perhaps she would offer to help him with that later. For now she needed to continue this lesson.

"Jack, look around your room. Do you see how it is like the food store?"

He shrugged, "Yea. I do."

"I am leaving you here. Your assignment is to reorganize this room according to the principles you learned earlier. Report when you are ready for me to inspect your room. Do you understand?"

Jack's locks had begun to rise slightly as Chance explained his task. _She's treating me like an idiot! Of course I can organize this room – what's the point? I hoped to learn more about hunting, or even fighting, from her. But then, I don't suppose she knows more about any of that than my Sire does. After all, she was his student. Hey, I wonder if he's teaching me more stuff than he taught her. Did he give her this stupid assignment just to give her something to do? Dammit, Theron! _

Chance scented Jack's dismay and aggravation. "Jack – this assignment is more important than you realize. It is important to do your best." With that she left and Jack began picking up things and trying to sort them. "Fine!" he commented aloud, "I'll clean this up, Your Royal Chanceness! Thanks for making me feel like I'm two!" He snickered to himself at his new name for her. "God, I hope she makes a decision soon! She doesn't act nearly as nice as she looks."

Chance went back the way they had come to look for Theron. It should take Jack some time to clean his room and she wanted to see if she could get a real assignment - something worthy of her effort and time. Theron's offspring seemed soft to her and definitely undisciplined. How did any son of someone like Theron get to be that way? It was true that her experience around the Yautja was limited, but she had never been around a Hunter who left things in such disarray. Duncan had told her that even the BadBloods were meticulous. Was Theron embarrassed by his son's penchant for disorder? Why hadn't he simply ordered Jack to clean up his act? _Being bounced around the arena a few times by Theron should have been enough to motivate the kid_, she thought to herself.


	16. Chapter 15: Dispute du Jour

**Chapter Fifteen: Dispute du Jour**

"_The very purpose of existence is to reconcile the glowing opinion we hold of ourselves with the appalling things that other people think of us." – Quentin Crisp_

A fresh morning breezed through the waving stalks of plants in the atrium garden. The dry air swept into the large courtyard from the desert, after wafting through the city. It was a dry wind, as was usual, but once in the garden it picked up airborne moisture from the many small waterfalls and fountains that sang there. The dew was then deposited on the various leaves and stalks leaving a sparkle trail of gems for the sun's rays to dance through. Small exoskeleton creatures grasped the tiny drops of life in their mandibles and drank or carried the treasure away to share with their young. They hurried to collect the morning's bounty before the rising sun evaporated it all away.

Sitting on a fur cushioned bench, Sally watched this cycle's version of the show and smiled at the tiny life forms enjoying her garden's gift of water. Since the city was built near the desert edge of the cultivated band around the planet, her garden was an oasis that had drawn many of the local creatures to enjoy life there. Watching them busily collecting dew was a satisfying experience that reminded the Matriarch that the basis of life was really very simple. It only took society and cultures to complicate things.

She yawned and stretched before rising, ready to walk to her study and begin the day's shuffle of papers requiring her attention. Fatigue again overtook her full night's sleep as it had the previous cycle. _I'll work for a bit and then I'm going to need a nap…again. I'm slowing down. Everything feels so heavy – my arms, my legs, even my head. At least I can still think! I've got to have energy for the girls visit today! _

Once in her study, she neglected the stack of documents arranged neatly for her reading and sat at her personal station. A few clicks of the keys pulled up the speech to the High Council that she'd been writing. Quietly she reread the text and then rotated her chair away from the desk. Closing her eyes, she emptied her mind and went into meditation. As always, the answers would come for her. If not during the meditation, she would happen upon them just as they were needed. The short time spent in the space of alertness to the now would do her nearly just as well as a full night's rest. Then she could continue working on what she planned to be her final speech.

Arndís and Ulfrde had been invited to join their Bearer for the evening meal and then socialize in the bath. They had not spent time together since the Chiva and Sally could picture them both trading mating stories and comparing pregnancies. It would be good to see her daughters of Ulfr's Bloodline. Besides, she had other motives for getting them together as word had reached her that they both planned to obtain the Matriarchy.

* * *

Arndís hurried in her preparation, anxious to see how her sister's pregnancy was coming along – as well as show off her own beginning-to-bulge belly. She had not expected the unborn to protrude from her figure at such an early stage, but Myn'dill assured her that the pup was extraordinarily healthy and simply growing well. It would be a large baby he told her, but not so large she could not deliver it.

One of Sally's Aseigans ushered her inside the palatial quarters that served the Matriarch. Arndís had spent her puphood here and it always brought back warm memories to return. The tall Huntress followed the servant to where Sally reclined on a fine settee of carved stone which had been draped with many furs for her comfort. Arndís admired her mother's slight yet strong form and long silvery braided hair, content that her Bearer was still fit. Her sister had not yet arrived. Upon her mother's invitation, Arndís sat upon the settee beside her.

"Are you well, my Honorable Bloodline?" Sally began with a formal Yautja greeting which caught Arndís off-guard.

"I am, Honorable Bearer and my Matriarch, as is my unborn." Arndís had to keep her body from fidgeting like a pup under her mother's scrutiny. Sally's eyes were still sharp, and her mind still keen.

"Is something bothering you?" The Matriarch asked.

"H'ko." She worked to hold her body still and then let pretense drop. "Honestly, Mom. I was just surprised at your formality in greeting me. I was hoping that we could just get together as family."

"We are always family, my dear. There will be time to relax later – I hope. But the start of this evening, at least, is for formality. You will see." Just then Ulfrde made her grand entrance. Following the servant into the room she presented all with the sight of a regal Huntress – completely done up in her magnificent Hunt attire. Her dark brownish-gray armor gleamed and a brace of pure white carnivore skulls was slung around her hips, accentuating the female's walk. Arndís had worn only her simple everyday leather top and loin cloth along with a full over-cloak. She felt naked and vulnerable in the mechanical gaze from her sister's mask.

"Welcome, Honorable Huntress," Sally beamed. "You appear to be well, my Bloodline."

Ulfrde nodded and then removed her mask. She gave another sign of submission to her mother and then looked dispassionately at her sister. The two exchanged formal cordialities as Arndís could not help but continue to admire her sister. Ulfrde preened under her sister's admiring gaze, but let her jaws gape when Arndís stood to let her cloak fall and she beheld her obviously pregnant sibling.

"Paya! You're huge! So soon?" Tact had never been Ulfrde's strong suit but even Sally was taken aback by Arndís large bulge and made to make her comfortable.

"Arndís, please sit back down. When are you due?"

"I'm due at the same time everyone else is, Mom. I mean, Honorable Matriarch. The pup is very large and healthy." Arndís welcomed her mother's bright smile and basked in the limelight for a few moments.

"I am pleased that you are both here," Sally motioned towards the dining table. "Take the seats on either side of me. We have much to speak of."

Carefully, she gathered her strength to slip off the bed edge and walk to the table. It would not do to appear weak in front of her daughters, especially the more traditional Ulfrde. The pain in her arthritic feet made her stifle a wince as her feet hit the floor. Ignoring it, she walked to her place and ascended her chair. Gracefully taking her seat, she noticed the burn in Ulfrde's sharp eyes. Returning her daughter's stare, Sally gave no ground. Mannerly for once, Ulfrde did not say whatever she was thinking. Refusing to acknowledge anything that Ulfrde might have been observing, the Matriarch ordered c'ntlip for all of them which a servant immediately poured.

"To spending an evening with my now fully adult Honorable offspring!" Sally held up her cup and toasted the occasion. Her daughters followed her lead and they all took a swallow. Then Arndís toasted the others.

"May our pups grow large, but not so large that we cannot push them out!" Sally cheerily held up her cup and laughed at the humorous toast. Ulfrde also held up her tankard but only grunted, making Sally wonder if she was jealous of her sister's larger sign of pregnancy.

Then Ulfrde held up her mug and saluted the evening with something original, "May we never dance with the fallen gods!" She chugged down the rest of her drink and set the vessal down on the stone table with a pronounced 'whack', motioning for the servant to pour her more.

Sally and Arndís greeted her toast by imbibing more of the drink. Just to show her toughness, Arndís also finished her mug, but did not request more. Sally only had another swallow after which she delicately replaced her cup on the table and looked at Ulfrde curiously. "An original departure from the usual saying," she noted.

Ulfrde grunted again and did not look at her mother. Sally persisted, "Did you make that up yourself?"

"Sei," the huge brown eyes settled on the Matriarch. The orbs were unreadable. Ulfrde was carefully masking her emotions from her mother and her scent from Arndís.

"What does it mean?" ventured Sally, bravely.

Ulfrde's crest rose a bit. Who would dare question a saying handed down from the Ancients? "Sei," she finally replied, "You are ooman after all." Arndís bristled at the comment and huffed for her sister's meaning. "My twist on the saying is my wish that our society never fail. That we never fall as some of the gods did."

"That is a good wish," Sally replied, ignoring the crack about her humanity, as well as her daughters reversion to the traditional prounciation. "I too wish for the success of this society." There was more she wanted to know, but she waited to see if Arndís had any comment.

"Agreed," spoke Arndís with unusual brevity. "We are of one mind in this regard." She made eye contact with Ulfrde and held it as her sister replied.

"Perhaps."

The eye contact continued and Sally grew nervous. She had not prepared for challenging behavior so early into the evening. There were topics she wished to broach easily and slowly with her girls. Were they going to go at each other right at her dinner table? Fighting to assert control, she broke into the stare-down.

"Honorable Ulfrde, please indulge us by speaking more of what you mean."

With a nod, the larger Huntress explained, "It is my belief that because of the lack of female leadership, the High Council and society at large have gone astray from the principles set forth by our Ancients. We are weaker and less honorable that we should be. I would like to see that…change."

"Can you explain further?" Sally challenged, her eyes hard as she stared Ulfrde straight on.

Arndís butted in, "Our Bearer HAS provided leadership – female leadership during the absence of the Yautja females. How dare you say she has not!"

Ulfrde bowed in an unexpected show of humility, "I do not speak to insult you, Honorable Matriarch. You have provided female leadership - as much as you have been able. As an ooman, I mean. I intend no insult to you in my words, my Bearer. But you are ooman. That is an unchangeable fact. You have given a great gift to us all in the form of myself and my sisters who are and who will be. Yet, you cannot argue that some things have been missing. Your body is small and you cannot fight, Mother.

"My concern for Yaut is that because of the need to utilize ooman females as breeders, and because of the need for an ooman female to reign as Matriarch, there has been and continues to be, too much ooman influence upon us."

Ulfrde ignored her sister, her eyes fixated upon her mother. It had been very unsettling to speak her new beliefs to her Bearer. She anxiously waited for Sally to respond. But this time, Arndís was the one to raise her crown as the words issued forth from her sister's throat. A low answering growl came from hers, but was hushed by her Mother who stood to address Ulfrde.

"It is true that I am human. It is also true that my body is smaller and weaker than a Yautja's. However, you speak in error that I cannot fight! I have fought, and will continue to fight, with my words and my will. My willingness to stand up to the High Council regarding how human women were being treated is the only reason you even exist, Ulfrde! Remember that the High Council allowed me to donate my reproductive cells to create you – they did not force me. They showed me more respect than you have shown me in this moment!"

Sally's voice had become stronger as she dressed down her daughter and Ulfrde fought to keep her eyes from finding the floor. The Matriarch took a deep breath and continued, "I too value the Yautja culture. The honor, the bravery, the honesty, there are so many things of value here. I too have valued the Hunter's strength and skill. It was those abilities that saved us when the Badbloods attacked. I have not forgotten the bravery and sacrifice of Yin and Doru! And I remember how the two of you, along with the rest of the pups stood to fight. You fought to protect each other and to protect me, my daughter. Or have YOU forgotten that?

"I value the oneness of the Blood bond between myself and others who have been sworn to protect you every since you were tiny.

"And, perhaps most of all, I value the relationship I had with your Bloodline Sire, Ulfr. Without the relationship, you would not be here, Ulfrde! I loved him and I gave myself freely to him, just as he gave of himself freely to me."

The larger Huntress had stayed calm and unreadable through the diatribe until Sally spoke of Ulfr. A look of distain came over her countenance and also scented the air. "Even as your contributions to this society are appreciated, the fact that you have also weakened it through your ooman influence cannot be ignored. We must ensure a return to the old ways, the proven ways and not allow this hybridization to change us into oomans!"

"Change you? What are you talking about Ulfrde? You and your sisters appear as the Huntresses of old – thanks to the Healers. You have been trained as tradition dictates and you now bear the next generation within you. I see no change!" Sally stood defiantly in front of her daughter and fearlessly continued. "I demand to know what you speak of!"

"Honorable Matriarch," Ulfrde began, "On the outside, all your offspring appear Yautja. But there are certain oomanish behaviors beginning to be noticed. Not all of your pups are as pure as they were raised to be!

"Oh, they try to hide the ooman emotions and thoughts within them – but they cannot! I have tasked myself with guiding our people through this trial! Guiding us all back to the time of following the true path where only the best survive to breed and repopulate our kind!"

Ulfrde's speech brought out her pent up emotions and she finished with a loud roar. Sally stood, speechless for the moment, overwhelmed by her giant daughter's viewpoint and plans. Behind her, Arndís jumped to her feet.

"It is MY turn to speak. You bring dishonor and shame to this house," she began quietly. Our Bearer and our Matriarch has brought us together for her own purposes this cycle. You have insulted her and blasphemed her gifts. You have even dishonored yourself with your words. You condemn our humanness, yet have you somehow risen above your own half-human part, sister? Perhaps it is this very part that drives you to think yourself better than the rest of us! Perhaps it is this part of you that seeks division in our family, just as the Blue Planet is divided. How can you not question your own motives?

"Our society has been introduced to new levels of complexity as we seek to maintain our honor and culture through this difficult time. I have great hopes for our future, Ulfrde. We must evolve with where our path is taking us. We cannot fight and drag ourselves back to the past! That is fear speaking, not truth."

"You call me a coward?" Angry Ulfrde's rumble blasted the room. Arndís carefully moved her mother behind her.

"No, you have never been fearful, my sister. And I cannot believe these thoughts originated inside you. Who has been speaking to you? It is HIS FEAR that I call out!"

"Even now, you protect her!" Ulfrde bellowed. "A real Matriarch would defend herself."

With that, Sally stepped around Arndís and marched up to face Ulfrde. With her eyes blazing at her daughter, she did something she had never done in her daughter's life. In a flash, she reached out and slapped the large Huntress right across her face. The look of utter astonishment that followed was quickly squelched. Ulfrde assumed a fighting stance and Arndís moved in again to protect her mother.

"H'KO !" Sally screamed, even as she punched her com for her guards. "I will NOT have you fight here!"

The guards came running into the room and looked nervously at Ulfrde and Arndís obviously ready to tear into each other. The scent of their aggression was pungent, along with the scent of the Matriarch's anger.

"Ulfrde! Arndís! SIT DOWN! I ORDER YOU TO SIT DOWN AND LISTEN TO MY WORDS!"

The two looked at their tiny mother and at the bevy of huge guards who were breathing heavily in anticipation of subduing the two females. They both resumed their seats. Sally nodded to her guards and they left the room but stood nearby in case the Huntresses tempers became blows.

"What a lovely way to begin the evening," she remarked dryly. "I did bring both of you here this evening to discuss passing on the Matriarchy. I had hoped to bring it up in a civilized fashion." She glared at Ulfrde, who was now calmer and, out of long youthful habit, looked down.

"You both know that I love, yes that 'ooman word', both of you. I have loved you since before you were born and I have tried to give both of you every opportunity to succeed. In purity, my time left to live is short, girls. I have to meet with the High Council and declare my choice of successor and then I will go on Last Hunt. Don't look so surprised. Last Hunt is the custom of Matriarchs and I will abide by it!" She looked pointedly at Ulfrde again.

Sally thought about this momentous event. This was the first time they had all met together as adults. The little dark-locked moppets with short springy locks bouncing on curious heads were gone. They had been replaced by two very large Huntresses who were each formidable in their own way. Were they not her daughters, and trained from birth to respect her, Sally realized that she would have been viewed as an inferior weakling – by both of them.

"You both have great strengths that I have watched grow since your birth," continued Sally. "But there are also have parts of each of you that need more work." She looked at each of her daughters, knowing that this was a shocking revelation to them. Of course, they remained unreadable to her.

"Ulfrde, I admire your great hunting skills. You are the epitome of all that any Huntress strives to be. You would bring great strength of will and honor to the task of Matriarch, as well as a devotion to the tried and true path of the Yautja." Ulfrde's eyes softened for a moment at this high praise from her Bearer, but hardened again as her mother spoke further. "Sometimes, survival must be weighed against the traditions of old and sometimes, rules must be broken for the benefit of all. I see that you are inflexible in your thoughts and I fear that this might be a detriment to all of Yaut if you were chosen to lead."

Ulfrde's mandibles opened and a hiss of anger came from her throat. Yet Sally remained firmly calm and added the garnish to her speech, "And, Ulfrde, sometimes those in the highest places must put aside their own wants for the good of all. Flexibility is important in a leader as well as knowing good advice when you hear it – as well as bad. You must listen to your gut, not just your ego." The snarl forming in Ulfrde's throat was squelched by her mother's words. Ulfrde realized that she would need some time to digest everything. In spite of her anger, deep down there was respect for Sally. It was turning out to be harder than she had thought to present her case before her. On the inside, a small doubt had formed – what if her Bearer was right and she did not have all the skills required to be Matriarch?

Sally now turned to Arndís. "You have always been studious. I am proud of your desire to learn and understand the richness of our history. You have always sought to comprehend and I see a great wisdom growing inside you. While not always equal in Hunt skills to your sister, you have learned well and brought honor to yourself and your Clan in the Chiva. In addition, I admire your calm disposition and willingness to consider all sides of an issue.

However, I have also seen that you are what might be called, 'politically astute' and able to gain backers and therefore, influence, among your Elders. I admit that I have wondered if this skill would evolve to benefit all of Yaut – or yourself."

Arndís was stunned by her Bearer's charge. There had never been a hint that she disapproved of her behavior around the Elders.

"Nevertheless, Arndís, this is an extremely useful skill that, if rightly directed, could be useful to the Matriarch and beneficial to the Yautja. I also am concerned that in a time where strength and force are called for – you would choose to think rather than act. There are times when force must be used.

"And there is my quandary, Honorable daughters. I see greatness in each of you as well as weakness. How can I choose between you? There has always been a single Matriarch appointed among the Matriarchs of the Clans as the great Leader. When I go to the High Council, I would like to suggest that the time and circumstances are right for something new. I would like to propose that BOTH of you be appointed to the office. What I envision is a Matriarchy made up of the two of you – united as sisters, as Huntresses, for the good of the Yautja.

"That is a recommendation I cannot make if you two are at each other's throat! You must both agree to this before I propose it to the High Council. Otherwise, you will force my hand to decide between the two of you. It is a decision that I would deeply regret. Neither of you are ready for the responsibilities of this office alone – you need each other!"

Sally waited for her message to sink in and one, or both, of her daughters to respond. Moments went by in stark silence. Then, the more submissive Arndís was first. Kneeling at her Bearer's feet, she spoke humbly, "I respect your wisdom, my mother and my Matriarch. I must reflect on what you have said regarding your perception of my weaknesses. However, I am willing to do whatever is required for the good of all of Yaut." She looked up at Ulfrde, her face beseeching her sister to comply.

Ulfrde remained dangerously quiet, not betraying her inner thoughts. The scent of her anger still permeated the air. "Honorable Matriarch, because of the respect I have for you as my Bearer, I will take time to consider your words." With that, she requested to leave and upon seeing Sally's nod, stalked away. She had deliberately ignored Arndís which was not lost on the Huntress or her Bearer. Neither was the fact that she had only stated she respected Sally as a Bearer, not as a Matriarch, escaped the woman. For not the first time in her life, she wished that she were large and strong enough to take a Yautja to the arena and whip its ass.

_Oh God! I hope I've said the right things. I was honest. How could I choose between the two of them? If this were a human society there would be no doubt that Arndís would be the one to lead, but here her strengths could either be perceived as, or turn into, deadly weaknesses. _

_If I choose Ulfrde, what wars would be waged in the future based only upon her sense of righteous anger? She needs time to grow and learn perspective. She was born a leader and I cannot take this opportunity to lead from her without her challenging her sister. And if they fight? It might be to the death. Hmmmmmmmmmmm. I wonder what the High Council would think of two of their precious females fighting and risking not only their own lives, but the lives of their pup daughters? _


	17. Chapter 16: Yee Haw!

**Chapter Sixteen: Yee Haw!**

_There never was a horse that couldn't be rode;  
Never was a cowboy who couldn't be throwed. – Cowboy saying_

"We require fresh meat," Theron announced, pulling up the coordinates for the nearest game planet. As he taloned in the values that would steer the ship through ever-moving multi-dimensional space-time, a quiver of anticipation went through Jack. This would be his first foray off-Earth to hunt. He chanced a sniff at the somewhat aloof Huntress and could tell that she was eager to hunt also. Although she was more of a veteran of the off-world Hunt than Jack, he had logged a great many successful kills on Earth and was no novice when it came to stalking prey.

* * *

The three had formed a sort of 'family', with Theron as Elder and Trainer of both Chance and his Bloodline Jack. The gray Hunter found Chance a willing learner, eager to improve her skills and he enjoyed having two students under his tutelage. The Huntress, while quite willing and understanding of the role of student, did not form relationships with males easily. When she was not training or accomplishing some assigned task, she usually kept to her room where she was content to study at the computer or polish her weaponry. Some days, she was only a passing shadow to Jack who was also busy with assignments and had separate training sessions in the ship's kehrite. Even at mealtimes she would often request permission from Theron to take her food to her room to eat in solitude. The Hunter always agreed, much to Jack's dismay. He wanted to know more about life on Yaut as she had agreed to educate him .

"Give it time," his Sire advised him. "She has been through much. Trust does not come easily to her." So the young male bided his time but never stopped seeking opportunities to speak with Chance or spend time with her. They had taken the ship to Earth where Theron had dropped Jack off to spend time with his mother while he and Chance went on. Chance stayed on the ship, as ordered, while Theron landed in several locations and sought out the best fruit for the Matriarch. Chance caught the smells of Earth through the hatchway each time it opened and she longed to disembark and explore the world of half her heritage. _I could cloak and sneak out. No one would know. But I would be disobeying my Elder. I don't think I could look him in the eye again if I deliberately disobeyed him._

So Chance's conscience kept her aboard the vessel. Each time he returned, Theron told her tales of what Earth was like and offered her samples of the fruit. She learned that she hated the fuzzy texture of peach skin, but relished the very black sweet grapes which she could devour stems, seeds and all to enjoy a satisfying crunch and chewiness along with their sugary flavor.

"Will I ever be allowed to see the planet for myself?" she asked him one day.

"Perhaps," he replied. "There are remote locations that Jack and I hunt where the risk of being spotted is low. We do not want the oomans to think their world is overrun with us." A short chortle followed his joke which went unappreciated by Chance.

"I look forward to visiting those places then," she replied in all seriousness. "Are the humans easily threatened?"

"Most of them are very fearful of us. After all, we have used this planet for hunting as well as for Chiva, since very ancient times. I think it is an ancestral fear they carry deep in their cells."

"My mother wasn't afraid of you!" Chance boasted.

"She was brave indeed," he acknowledged, remembering how he had translated her words to the High Council that had bought the opportunity to Chiva to her daughter. "But there are not that many like her. You should be proud of her blood that runs through your veins."

"And embarrassed about my Sire's – right?"

Theron paused, weighing his reply. "Your Sire was a BadBlood for many reasons. But I believe that HE believed he was doing the right thing. His blood blended with your mother's to produce you – a most unique Huntress." He gave her a short nod which she returned. "There are some who might belittle your heritage, but I have witnessed strength and honor within you. Perhaps the ooman saying, 'two wrongs don't make a right' is incorrect in your case."

Chance couldn't help but beam under his praise and attention. She had never before experienced a fatherly relationship – so vital to any females understanding of life. Although he was shorter and slighter than most Hunters she knew, his talents and reputation were second to few. In her spare time, she read up on his background and accomplishments in the records available from Yaut's vast libraries. The Huntress began to realize how fortunate she was to be training under him and went to her classes with even more determination and diligence.

Jack and his mother, Melanie, had a fine visit during this time. He showed off his new skills to her in the backyard, where a tall privacy fence kept them from prying eyes. She applauded his new prowess with the spear and demanded that he tell her tales of his hunting. Enthusiastically, he dove into his adventures which culminated in the story of how they had encountered Chance.

"I met Duncan and her daughter a long time ago. So she's a huntress now? And Duncan came back here. Amazing! Too bad shes not thought to look me up. But she seemed a very private person to me."

"Well, she passed away, Mom. From a car accident. We had to tell Chance about it. Really sad, huh?" A mournful look crossed his face as he took in the new wrinkles around Mel's mouth and eyes.

"It is sad they did not get the opportunity to be together before she died," Mel replied. "I'm very happy about all the time we get to spend together, Jack. And I know that you are old enough now to realize that I won't always be around."

"I hate to think about it. But, yea, I know its coming."

"Just as it comes for us all," she said cheerily. "But until then, let's enjoy! So when is your father going to be here?"

Jack checked his wrist com, "It looks like they'll be here by evening. Can Chance come to supper?"

"Why, of course, honey! I just assumed she would. Is there some problem?"

"Oh, Theron told her she could only come if you invited her."

Mel laughed, "Yautja manners! Sometimes so formal, sometimes not there! Yes, please contact her and request her presence. Do you know what she likes to eat? Is there anything she hates?"

Pleased to have an excuse for getting in touch, Jack called Chance via his wrist com and told her of his mother's invitation. She seemed very pleased. "Jack, uh, what should I wear to a meal at your mother's dwelling?"

"Just your regular hunting stuff. Theron wants us to be prepared for any possible challenge, plus we have to cloak to walk from the ship. Just relax and be yourself, Chance. Mom's a really neat person and I think you'll like her."

"Okay. I'll see you when we get there."

"Yah." The com went dead as Jack severed the connection. Mel realized that she required no special thanks from her son for inviting the Huntress to supper, his bright countenance was all the reward she needed.

"What can I do to help you get ready?" he asked, following Mel to the kitchen. Soon the small place was bustling with activity as Melanie sliced lean raw pork and turkey breast for the Yautja. Jack was busy at the sink scrubbing potatoes and carrots.

"Honey, do you want your meat cooked or raw?"

"Raw, please. I've acquired a taste for it that way."

"No problem. By the way, how does Chance eat it?"

"Either way, Mom. But I think it would be better for her to eat it raw. Our Yautja side needs it that way."

"Okay! She should be grateful she has you to look out for her." Mel gently teased.

"Oh, a…yah."

The meal was quickly prepared and the table set with everyday dishes. Mel didn't believe in having anything that didn't get regularly used. She had just finished arranging some flowers from the garden into a low dish on the table when Jack announced excitedly, "They're here. Mom, do you think I should cloak and go meet them?"

"Best not to seem over eager, Son. Just let them come up to the door like Theron always does."

"Thanks, Mom. You're the best, you know!"

"I know," she winked at him. "Just be yourself around her, Jack. You're quite a charming fellow."

"Mom! Charming? Really?" His face looked downcast as Mel realized she'd said the wrong thing.

"To an Earth girl, you're charming, Jack. To a Huntress, well – I see a very strong, tough and skillful guy with the bloodlines of Theron. What's not to like? Just wait til you Chiva, Jack. I'm telling you they won't leave you alone! Be careful! They're really big and strong!"

"You're just joking now."

Mel dried her hands on a towel and came up to him. She reached up and placed her hands on his broad shoulders and looked squarely into his eyes. "In all seriousness, Jack. A successful Chiva will allow you to court females. Your trophies, skills and bloodline will be of extreme importance to them. And uh, in spite of no mandibles – you don't look so bad either."

Now Jack was embarrassed and his face blushed, "Uh…thanks, Mom." Quickly he turned the subject, "Do you think I'll ever get to Chiva? Theron says nothing about it to me."

"He will, honey. He will when its time."

A subtle knock on the door brought the conversation to an end as Jack ran to open it. Halfway there he remembered his mother's words and slowed to a walk. He opened the doorway expecting to casually greet his Sire and Chance but stared into nothing. _Good cloaking, _he thought as he sought the shimmer. From under his chin a very tiny voice announced, "Hey-wo. I'm you new nay-bwor. Mommie wants to bowwow a cup a sugaw."

Small chubby hands held up a glass measuring cup. Jack followed the smooth brown arms to dimpled elbows and then down to the round expectant face surrounded by black curls. Large, expressive dark eyes held his own for a moment, then he bent down to the little one. "And what is your name?" he questioned gently.

"Wickie," the small mouth stated.

"Wickie?" Jack mimicked.

"No. Wickie, not Wickie," the little one corrected.

"Oh, I see," Jack nodded his head. "It's Wickie, then."

"No!" One tiny canvas shoe covered foot stomped the ground. "I said, Wickie! Not Wickie!"

From the kitchen, Mel called, "Theron?"

"No, Mom! Not Theron. We have a Wickie here." He couldn't help but smile at the tot as she folded up her bottom lip into a pout. Melanie came into the room and took in the small child.

"Rickie! Hi, honey! What can I do for you today?"

"Yes, pwease, I bowwow a cup of sugaw," she politely responded, stepping around Jack and turning her back on him. "Him is teasing me! Make him stop!"

"Jack!" Mel lowered her gaze at her son. "May I introduce you to Rickie, my new neighbor. Rickie, this is my son, Jack."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Rickie," Jack offered his large hand in all seriousness to the small one who was the epitome of cute. The little girl looked to Mel who nodded her encouragement and the tiny brown hand was placed into the large one. She rewarded him with a beautiful smile showing a set of perfectly spaced little teeth. He smiled back at her, careful not to show his fangs.

"I'm pweased to meet you too, Mr. Jack."

With that, the cup was filled with sugar and the tyke was on her way back home. As soon as she entered her own door, the expected guests arrived. Everyone did their best to act natural, although Jack heard a million drums beating as he introduced Chance to Melanie.

"Honorable Melanie, this is our shipboard guest, Honorable Huntress Chance. Honorable Chance, this is my Bearer, Honorable Melanie."

Mel did not try to shake Chance's hand, knowing that was not a part of Yautja culture. Instead she greeted her, "Honorable Huntress, I am honored to have you as a guest in my home. Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy some wine. The meal will be ready in a few minutes."

As a frequent guest and decidedly head of the family, Theron poured wine for everyone while Jack helped his mother get the food to the table. Chance stood and watched as everything was done, sipping at her wine. Suddenly she turned to Theron, "Should I have an assignment?"

Theron's brow went up, "What do you mean?"

"Jack and Melanie are bringing out the meal from the galley, you are pouring drinks. I stand here doing nothing."

Theron smiled internally, _she wants to fit in. _"It is proper to ask Melanie if there is anything you can do to be of assistance." Promptly the Huntress went into the kitchen. There she saw Mel loading Jack's arms with serving plates of food.

"Here," she motioned for Chance to come closer. "You can take these to the table. Looks like I make enough to feed Attila's army!"

"We they be joining us?" Chance asked.

Melanie stood up from digging through the refrigerator and stared, "What? Who?" Jack had to juggle the plates that threatened to cascade down his arms.

"Attila's army. You said that you have enough to feed them."

"Oh no, honey! That was just an expression. A saying. It means that I made plenty of food. Now take these into the dining room and put them on the table. There you go!" Mel sent the Huntress off with an arm pat which made Jack wince.

After the brief commotion of getting the meal to the table, they were all seated. Mel had learned from Sally that she needed to take a bite before anyone else would, so after the dishes were passed, she heartily dove in. Theron smiled at his mate's good appetite. Even as she aged, she ate well and still kept fit.

It wasn't long before Jack felt at ease. This was his family, now with the addition of Chance, and he could be himself here. His ease helped Chance feel more relaxed. Soon, all of them were engaged in eating – enjoying the meat and vegetables that graced the table.

After everyone was full and the leftovers put away, more wine was poured and the conversation began. Everything was talked about from the amazing idea of having leftovers from a meal to Mel's Huntress daughter, Signý, and Mel's recollection of seeing Chance for the first time. It made the Huntress feel bonded to this woman who was a link back to when her mother had been alive. After dinner, Theron informed Jack and Chance that they could stay in the house for the night while he and Mel went back to the ship. "Make our guest comfortable," was Mel's parting command as she was carried by Theron out of the house and down the front porch steps. Hidden by his cloaking, Jack felt as though ordered by a ghost. _How strange! A shimmer with my mother's voice!_

"Okay, Chance. I have been waiting to show you something unique to Earth. It's called a 'movie'. What kind of stuff interests you?"

Chance looked a little unbalanced at being left alone with him but replied, "Hunting, sparring, training – perfecting my skills."

"The usual, I see. Let me look through these old movies and see if I can find a good one."

"What is a 'movie'?"

"A recording of a story. It's acted out as if it was really happening and recorded. Then we watch it for entertainment."

Chance's head tilted as she considered. "So, it is a lie then?"

"Well, sometimes it's a story about something that really happened and sometimes it's imaginary."

"Hmmmm. I would prefer a story about something that actually happened."

"Okay. Let me see." Jack continued his rummage through the titles as Chance looked out the window, taking in all of the yard and neighborhood that she could see through the square of glass.

"Hey, I've got just the thing," he announced. "This is real! Its a documentary about our largest predators. I think you'll like this." He popped the DVD into the slot and turned on the player and television. Taking a seat on the sofa, he motioned for Chance to sit beside him.

For nearly two hours they watched footage of killer whales, polar bears, tigers and huge salt water crocodiles, along with other large carnivores. They watched as the animals hunted and killed, mated and raised young. Both the young man and the Huntress were enchanted as the feature unfolded. Jack ticked off the ones he had hunted while Chance yearned to encounter an Anaconda.

"Aren't they cute!" exclaimed Jack as the tiny tiger cubs tumbled around their mother.

"Cute?" questioned Chance. "What do you mean, cute?"

Jack paused the movie. "The baby tigers are appealing. They make me want to hold them and play with them. They are…cute." He looked at her questioningly, wondering at someone who didn't understand what cute was.

"They are…immature predators who look forward to the day when they can hunt on their own and defend themselves," Chance declared.

"Yes, but right now they are just pups," Jack's soft deep voice explained. "They aren't huntable yet, but we can enjoy their helplessness – their baby cuteness. I know you and Theron watched the little pup from next door come over here. She was adoreable! Didn't you think she was cute?"

"I dunno…" paused Chance, feeling a little awkward. "I remember my sisters and brothers when they were babies. The mothers used to pass them around and laugh at them and say they were cute."

"You didn't think so?"

"They stunk of pee, poop and puke," she stated. "And I was burdened with watching them while the mothers did other stuff – like get dragged off to be raped again by the older boys. All a baby means is that you got raped."

Inside, Jack's stomach bunched into a ball as his mind tried to grasp what Chance had told him - so backward, so horrible…but so true from her experience. Then he remembered his mother's story and how his half-sister Signý came to be and he realized that there was still much to learn about this troubled female. He fought the urge to put an arm of comfort around her. Before restarting the movie he said, "I'm glad you are with us, Chance."

"Uh…yeah. I'm…a….glad, too."

* * *

The ship slowed and dropped out of the gateway it had been utilizing on the trip to Yaut from Earth. It slowed further and pointed nose at a nearby star before shooting towards it. In just a few moments, their target could be seen approaching along its orbital path. It was a large gaseous globe, covered in mildly undulating stripes of nauseous yellow and green. The words slipped from Jack's lips, "What in hell are we hunting on THAT?"

Chance ignored his outburst while Theron replied by pointing. Jack followed the talon-tipped finger and saw a largest moon coming up over the planet's horizon. "Prepare," growled the gray Hunter and Jack bolted from his seat. He had to force his run down to a jog as he heard the footsteps of Chance follow him. _No sense in looking like a rookie, _he thought. Entering his room, he dashed for his 'awu'asa', or armor, gifted to him over time by his Sire. It took only a short time for him to reappear - fully suited for the Hunt. His plain and unmarked mask announcing to all his juvenile status. But Jack did not care, not this time. He was going on his first off-Earth Hunt! What could be more exciting than that?

The ship landed in an open area near a pond. At least, it looked like a pond. On an alien planet, one could take nothing for granted. The hatch opened and three masked Hunters appeared. One was obviously female. The gray one took point and the other two flanked him as they peered around the wilderness. Seeing nothing, the leader gave a hand signal and they began to traverse the terrain in complete silence, all the while looking around for signs of prey and testing the air for the scent of it. Theron motioned for them to cloak, spread out and surround the pond area. Any other intelligent predator who might have been watching would have savored the ballet of coordination and purpose before him.

The ground was covered with knee-high scruffy vegetation with patches of bareness quilted-in here and there. The going was easy and the group made good time in covering the great distance between them and the watering hole. Younglings bawled as they tracked their mothers, complaining of the thirst that consumed them. They had not had water since the sunrise, spending the day traversing the plain to browse upon their favorite herbs. As the season had progressed, the herbs near the pond became sparse – sending the creatures farther and farther away to find their food. It was not far now, and the group broke into a run. Just before the water came within range of their vision, the wise old one who led them bawled the group to a halt. All the adults obeyed and most of the younglings. For the immature ones who challenged the leader's order, there was punishment. The adult long-necked plant eaters swung their spiked heads like living mauls and simply bashed at the upstarts until they thought better of their decision and ran back to the group.

With the herd in obedience, the leader cautiously sought the watering hole, pivoting its head in the search for danger. All the way down the bank to the water the leader made certain that the way was safe for the rest. Finally, determining that none of their enemies lay in wait for them, the signal to approach was given – a long drawn-out low-pitched blubbering cry. To Jack, standing as still as though he were part of the planet, he thought it sounded eerily like a cross between a baby and a sheep. It pulled some previously hidden urge in him to jump out and save the piteous creature. Instead, he stayed still. As still as a stone as the herd jumped at the leader's cry and galloped for the pond. He knew that he was invisible to them and for a moment thought he might be run down. Refusing to budge at the possible danger, he stood fast and at the last moment, the herd veered to the front of him and passed right by, following a slight slope of the terrain. Instinctively he had picked the higher ground, and now he was very conscious of why.

A clicking pierced his thoughts through the communicator in the mask. Jack lifted his spear even as he picked his quarry from the group and threw. The spear struck true and his prey was down, rolling as the rest of the herd scattered in fear. Uncloaking, he ran toward it with his blade drawn, ready to dispatch the animal if it was not yet dead. The beast lay upon the ground, his spear butt poking up toward the sun, the head buried deep between the ribs and into the heart. "A hole in one!" Jack cheered, realizing that he had killed in a single blow. Suddenly, he thought to look around.

Theron worked across the water from him, dispatching one of the three animals he had slain. To his right, around the curve of the pond, Chance was busy skinning her kills. The animals, which had scattered everywhere, had regrouped a long distance away. Jack could see them nervously stomping front feet on the horizon. Between the herd and industrious Chance, the leader was positioned. He snorted, blowing phlegm into the air. Then he lowered his long neck and scraped the ground with one front foot. Alarmed, Jack recognized the actions of a bull about to charge. "Watch out!" he yelled in the Huntress' direction as he began to run to her.

Engrossed in her skinning task, Chance worked to remove the tough furless skin from her kill. She felt the presence of the beast behind her and was alert to any sense that it might move in her direction. Then she heard Jack yell at her and looked up to see him apparently charging her. _Stupid idiot! He should be cleaning his kill right now, not trying to play games with me. _Chance's mind worked to figure this out. _Wait…he's trying to impress us all as a Hunter. He's warning me about the one that is charging!_

Chance whirled to her rear even as Jack rounded the pond and slogged through the dampish low place near her. With her mental capacity divided between the creature, her prey and Jack, she was nearly caught off-guard as the thundering crown of spikes quickly covered the ground between them. There was no time to do anything but jump the lowered head as it plowed into the air where she had just been. With a bawl of anger, the creature realized it had missed even as the airborne Chance came down upon its back. Facing rearward, the Huntress' legs straddled the creature as in desperation she grabbed the long rope of a tail. Flailing in her grasp, the tail, which had never felt such insult before, was supplanted by the bucking that started at the rear end in front of her.

A wall of infuriated hindquarters came up before her as the beast threw its back-end into the air. Centering her balance down through her pelvis, Chance grasped the sides with her thighs and knees even as the back end came down and the front end reared up behind her. Settled in-between, the Huntress rode the alien bronco keeping good balance as it bucked first back, then front across the plain. Close by, Jack stood in amazement as the rodeo played out in front of him.

As if in slow motion, Chance felt the bucking change to a hop as the beast tried becoming airborne on all four legs. It jumped and hopped now, arching its back each time. Still maintaining her seat, facing backwards on the animal, she felt it tiring beneath her but still kept her grasp on it with strong legs and held tight onto the recalcitrant tail. Then she felt a new coiling of energy within it as it gave yet another front-end buck into the air and then came down while twisting to one side. This new tactic sent Chance onto one rear cheek after which her backside found the ground with little grace.

Looking up at the sky from her resting place, Chance was keenly aware that her ride was still quite near and probably truly pissed. Suddenly, she saw the mask of Jack overhead and a hand was extended to her. Without a thought she took it and was gratefully hauled to her feet even as she scanned to locate her enemy.

It was not far away. After she fell from its back, the beast had galloped a few strides and then slid to a stop. Realizing it was free, it again succumbed to anger and trotted back to face her. This time there was another with her. The creature did not waste energy in crying out or pawing at the ground. Instead, with head up, it charged the pair. Just before it reached the target of its anger, it lowered the spike-tipped ramrod intending to knock them both to the ground. But the Hunter and Huntress had waited patiently for the beast to near them before they jumped apart. As the charging animal thundered between them, Chance rammed her spear into it and Jack brought down a long blade over the long neck, catching it just before the shoulders. Neatly, the razor-sharp blade sliced into the racing meat but the blade was ripped from his grasp by the powerful creature before he could complete the cleavage. Mortally wounded from Chance's spear, it determinedly turned once more to face them. Blood was running freely from its side and from the half-cut neck. It looked to charge again, but in a fit of coughing, heaved its last and fell down dead.

Jack and Chance carefully approached it. More than one Hunter had been gravely injured by a beast he thought was dead and came up to carelessly. Chance kicked at one extended foot. Jack went behind it and pushed with his foot at the rear end, and then zeroed in with his mask and saw the stilled circulation. Now satisfied that it was really dead, the duo looked at each other.

"Nice throw, Chance. You really nailed it!"

"Thank you for coming to my rescue. If you hadn't been there, I might have been mauled," Chance replied humbly, trying to mask the slight fib.

Theron, who had stood apart and watched as the battle played out, made a noise to make his presence known and then ordered them back to work. "You both did well. Now let us attend to filling our ship with meat. We leave this old one for the scavengers. You may both take trophies."

Jack and Chance surveyed the kill. It was the Huntress who decided for them. "Jack, you nearly took its head in one stroke, the skull is yours." He hurried to secure it, but then looked at her.

"What will you take?"

"Me? I shall take the tail," she laughed. "It will remind me not to try and ride prey again!" After the head and tail had been taken, they both scuttled back to complete skinning and cleaning their previous kills. The ship's larder was soon stocked with fresh meat. Jack was looking forward to trying it as it was not a creature he had eaten before. He was also looking forward to the bliss of a warm post-Hunt soak. He and Theron always used the communal bath after a Hunt. It was a way of continuing the unity they had felt. A strange look came over the young man's face as he thought, _will Chance be joining us? _He hurried to clean his weapons and 'awu'asa'. After a quick shower, he donned a loincloth and walked to the communal tub, determined to remain as nonchalant as possible.

His countenance fell as he saw that Theron AND Chance were already in the water. They sat somewhat apart with their heads back against the tub wall, quietly talking about something. Two sets of eyes looked up as he neared the tub and self-consciously began to tug at his cloth. He dared not think of anything. His eyes refused to focus even as his ears burned. _She's watching me take off my cloth…shit. I hoped to be in the water first. What's she going to think of me? Dad's well…damn huge. Shit! Act like you don't give a rat's ass what she thinks of you! Dammit, the string's knotted!_

Jack fiddled to untie the tangled string as his ears grew even hotter. Then, casting the cloth aside, he looked straight ahead and strode down the steps into the water, gaining the deeper side as fast as he could without appearing to scramble. Moving to an underwater seat, he tried to maintain a look of casualness. _Yea, I do this every day. Every day I strip naked in front of women. It's nothing. It's no big thing. _Taking a breath, he finally regained his vision and looked across the pool at Chance and his dad. They were still engaged in conversation, Jack realized. _Hey, maybe she didn't even look! _Brightening a bit, he began to relax and enjoy the soak. _Damn, Jack. Maybe she didn't even look._

His Sire finally seemed to notice him and motioned for him to join them. Jack swam a stroke and then found the bottom and walked over. He tried to look only at his Sire. The only other bench was next to Chance, so he took it, aware that his pulse rate had increased. He looked to see his father, but instead looked right into a set of green eyes. He nodded at her, and then looked around her to his Sire.

"Honorable Chance and I have been speaking of how well you performed today."

Jack felt embarrassed suddenly at the attention. "I only reflect the greatness of my Sire and Trainer," he replied softly.

"Do not fear to claim that which is rightfully yours, Jack. You did very well today. Both in your first kill for meat and your reaction to the threat to Chance. Out on the Hunt, we must all have each other's backs. If you had not reacted, she might have been seriously injured or killed. I am proud of you. Do you have anything to add?" He turned to Chance.

She screwed up her face thoughtfully. "Nope. Well, only that its been a long time since I've heard such professional brown-nosing."

Theron looked baffled, while Jack sputtered in astonishment, "Wwwwhat? What do you mean?"

Chance mocked Jack's deep voice, "I only reflect my Sire's greatness…"

Theron clicked away at her mimicry while Jack stood wishing he could sink to the bottom. Suddenly, he brought down his flat hands and gave a great push of water at the Huntress. She was caught in mid-mock as the splash of water covered her. Sputtering in indignation, she dove at the offender, knocking him off his perch and down into the bath. Jack had barely surfaced when she dove at him again, this time grabbing his legs and pulling him back under.

Below the water, he curled his body and wrestled with her, holding her down with him. From above, Theron watched, not at all amused anymore. When they both surfaced, gasping for air they were met by his voice. "Enough!" he bellowed. "Jack! You have inspections to do! Chance! See me in my quarters!"

The trio left the soak and proceeded to dry and cloth themselves. Jack found himself trying to get a peek at the Huntress, but the glare in his Sire's eyes told him to mind his own business. _What is he so peeved about? We didn't do anything. Was he afraid I'd hurt her? More likely that she'd hurt me. _He smiled to himself, and then went to the engines to begin the inspection. _Chance is tough enough to deal with him – whatever the problem is._

Inside Theron's quarters, he did not take a seat, nor motion for her to take one. Chance's mouth grew dry as she waited to be berated and hoped he would not hit her. Theron stood looking at his trophy wall for a long time, taking some cleansing and calming breaths. Finally he turned to Chance, only to scent her fear and observe the quiver in her lower lip. "Chance, I will not hurt you! Do not be afraid! I am only concerned." The Huntress sucked at her lower lip until she caught it on a fang. Tears were forming in her eyes.

"Chance, what are you afraid of?"

"It's nothing, Honorable Theron." She regained herself and stood before him.

"As your Elder and Trainer, I insist that you tell me."

"Back when I was living with my mothers and my sisters and brothers…you know, back under the temple on Yaut. Well, if one of the bigger boys was angry with me – he'd hit me. Being here with you, and knowing you were angry…well, it brought back memories."

Theron spoke gently, "I have been told just a little about your life during that time. And I believe your experiences there are why you ran away from your designated mate – are they not?"

"Yyyyes."

"You were raped by some of the boys?"

Chance's face paled even more and a veil crossed over her eyes. "Yes," she said, flatly.

"You should not have been offered a mate until you were healed from these incidents. I tell you purely, Chance. Rape is a great offense to us! Those who commit it are BadBloods and have no place among us. Not even as servants or slaves. I support your decision to leave your mate, Chance. Understand that I will not allow you to be wronged. When we arrive on Yaut, I will go to the Matriarch and the High Council. You must come also. We will resolve this."

Chance looked at the Hunter as new tears formed in her eyes. "I am honored and grateful for your assistance, Honorable Theron. I only hope that the Matriarch will be as kind to me as you have been."

"This is not 'kind', Chance. It is only civilized behavior. And as for the Matriarch? It was she who told me exactly where to find you on Earth." His mandibles moved into a smile.

"She did? Well, I'm going to have to thank her in person." A small smile found its way Chance's mouth. "Now, I think I know what you were unhappy about back in the tub. Believe me - I wasn't coming on to Jack. When we were small I used to play fight with my brothers and sisters in the underground pool where we lived. Jack is like a brother to me."

"I am not certain how he sees you. He is at the age where hormones rule."

Chance's smile left and a most serious expression ruled her face, "Oh. I know all about that. Believe me, if he EVER tries ANYTHING – I will put him on his ass."

"Promise?" he asked.

"Promise!" she replied.

* * *

Standing near the piloting seat, Theron's brow folded as the utility craft carrying fruit for the Matriarch was slowly lowered down into the spaceport in Yaut's capital city by his only hybrid Bloodline. The routine landing was, so far, uneventful even though he had allowed his offspring to guide it for the first time. Bit by bit the craft gingerly approached the dark circle upon the ground as though it were a puppet craft being lowered by a string. A growl of tension was forming in the Sire's throat at the agonizing speed of the landing. Nevertheless, he suppressed his criticism. Jack was being very careful and there was nothing wrong with that. With a small jolt and the groan of metal shifting, the ship finally settled onto its designated spot and young Jack could not suppress the grin of pleasure that took over his face. A clap on the back from his Sire, along with a grunt signifying 'well done' from Chance, nearly put him on air. Quickly, he remembered to stuff down the childish reaction and ready himself for Theron's next orders. They were, as he had expected, to direct and supervise the unloading of the cargo hold by the Matriarch's household Aseigan.

Jack jumped into the oft-done task with enthusiasm, still relishing his perfect landing. After identifying the Aseigan as Sally's, he led them to the crates of fruit and watched as they carefully unloaded and restacked them for transport. The smells of ripe Earth peaches and plums filled the air with tantalizing fragrance and made Jack long for a juice-dripping mouthful. Even a couple of Sally's servants looked longingly at the yellowish-orange fuzzy and smoothly red-black orbs. He wondered if she allowed them any in their daily ration.

Sniffing after the fruit, Jack shepherded the workers from the ship and then watched from the bay door as it was loaded onto their carts. Hovercraft would have been more efficient, but Aseigan labor was plentiful and the carts were much cheaper. The lad had wondered about the economics of governmental households, such as the Matriarch's, on Yaut. Theron had told him that the entire society was taxed a small amount to provide for her and many Hunters freely offered tribute to honor her.

He was not looking forward to having to stay on the ship. His Sire had strictly forbid him to set foot off their craft onto the planet and he knew better than to challenge such an order. Jack envied his parent and Chance as they prepared to disembark. He knew his father would accompany the fruit to the Matriarch's dwelling, but what was Chance going to do? He longed to know but knew that such an inquiry would be rude and nosey. If he needed to know where the Huntress was going, she would have informed him. He eyed her as she was about to leave.

Chance stood at the doorway, glancing about for threats before walking down the ramp. Theron had already left, hurrying to be with the cargo. Unexpectedly, she looked back at Jack and gave him a longish stare. It made him feel uncomfortable as she had some control over her scent already and he wasn't sure what to make of it. Catching him by surprise, she spoke, "I may be back before long. I…don't know how I will be received here."

The scent of insecurity finally wafted into his nostrils. This was an unseen side of the Huntress. It made his unease grow. Not certain how he should reply he nodded, still wondering why she had felt the need to explain this to him but enjoying her newfound sense of personal trust. Then she was gone. He watched her walk away through one of the ports as a new shade of loneliness settled over him. _Will I ever be able to walk among them? What is she worried about? I wish I was by her side in whatever it is she has to face._


	18. Chapter 17: The First to Draw Blood

**Chapter Seventeen: The First to Draw Blood**

"_He who knows when he can fight and when he cannot, will be victorious." – Sun Tzu_

A hush settled like a falling cloth – first quieting one corner and then another as it touched the various cloisters of Hunters who had formed great clots by rank within the mixture. Above them all sat the nine High Elders from the nine Clans. They too stopped speaking as the Matriarch rose in the very center of the Great Hall. She stood on a platform that was now quickly elevated to make her equal to the height of the balconied High Elders. In a way, it was their highest public recognition of her. A true Yautja Matriarch would have been lifted above them but since Sally was human it was an unthinkable tribute. The chorus of clicking and growls continued to die down until only a great ringing silence greeted her as she slowly prepared to speak. At her side, Aldúlfr offered his steady arm in an Earthly act of politeness taught to him by Sig'dan. She hung on his forearm and let his strength keep her somewhat unsteady feet. He glared across at the Elders and then down at the crowd as if daring any of them to object to his actions.

Sally's adult children were also seated along one side of the large room, their faces set in the masks of those who are grimly prepared to hear bad news. With them were Healers Sig'dan and Myn'dill. They all looked up at the Matriarch and her Consort as the pulpit rose high in the air while Sally looked out over the populace and then down at her family. Behind the pair stood the gray Hunter, Theron, who would perform as her public translator. Pride swelled within many of her family as the aged Matriarch still conveyed an unmistakable aura of wisdom and authority.

This public forum was filled to overflowing - even to the doorways. The announcement of the date and time of the Matriarch's last Hunt had traveled as a wind over the planet and many had gathered to see this historic event. The only human Matriarch in history was stepping down from her post and from life. True to the ways of her predecessors, she had asked to speak before all of the Clans and the High Council before she took her leave.

Her wrinkled hand did not tremble as she reached out and guided the voice amplifier nearer to her lips. She pulled up her carefully written speech upon the screen of the dais and with one arthritic finger tracked the words as she spoke them. Her voice, still strong and without tremor, carried out into the Hall sentence by sentence which was then spoken in Yautja by her ever faithful Blood Bond Hunter, Theron.

"Honorable High Elders, Huntresses and Hunters of Yaut, hear me! I am about to embark on Last Hunt. Therefore, I have requested that you gather so that I may speak to you. Following our honorable traditions, my words will be direct and may not be commented upon until I leave your presence. Nor may any retribution be sought upon my Bloodline, Blood Bond or Hunt Brothers because of anything I might say that any of you may take offense to.

"I speak to you from the depths of my spirit. Although my body is human - my heart, mind and even my soul have blended with you. They have blended with you until I am as mixed blood as any of you or any of my offspring. So…just as your females of old, I have tried to make the wisest and most honorable decisions for our entire race as your Matriarch. It is a role that I did not seek but rather one that, with my agreement, you appointed me to fulfill. It has been a role that I have sought to discharge with all the intelligence and honor within me.

"As witness to my fulfillment, I have dutifully given you the females that that we so desperately needed and you see some of them before you in this assembly. They are all honorable, fit and well-trained. All of the ones here today have earned their Clan mark and all bear the next generation of our race. This generation will only be a quarter human. In time, the near-purity of your race will be returned to you. As it once was – it will be again. Or will it? Should it?"

Sally looked slowly around the room, gathering an inventory of the expressions in front of her. All were attentive with some bending forward in their chairs in anticipation of her next words.

"I look at my offspring and I am proud of them! I value their strength, their abilities and their willingness to keep the sometimes difficult path of Honor. I am also proud of their intelligence and bravery. None of these traits came to them exclusively from their Sires. My genes...human genes AND your genes have both contributed to these characteristics. I know my first-born offspring very well, having raised them to the age of training. I also see traits in them that come more from their human heritage – and if you are honest with yourselves, you have seen them too.

"There are those among you who view these human traits as weak and degrading to your race. I ask you to take a closer look at them. Are they traits that might be worthy of inclusion? Of protection? Desirable even?

"I have heard murmuring within the ranks of Hunters that the females born from my Bloodline have exhibited characteristics that some of you find to be good – though you hide them from the public eye. My offspring have been manipulated to physically look like you but they are still half human inside! I have never known a Hunter to be fooled by mere appearances – why would you buy into such a charade now?

"These many cycles that I have lived with you I have studied your history – even the rare books of legend. There seems to be evidence, withheld from some, that our races became mixed genetically long, long ago – long before your females died out." Sally stopped as murmured growls and clicks came from the assembly. The room was called to order by a loud rapping from the Leader of the High Elders. When the place fell quiet again, Sally continued.

"Could it be, in Paya's great wisdom, that our races have always been meant to be together? Not only as predator and prey, but as equal? To mix together freely and to contribute to each others genes? I challenge all of you to consider this. I challenge your history-keepers to come forth with the ancient scrolls that tell of how, long ago, we were inter-bred. I do this not to cause dissention among you but to unveil truth. The truth is that we have created each other! The time of pretending our races are not intertwined is over! I challenge you to read this truth and then consider the will of our Gods!"

She paused and caught her breath, her chest rising and falling from the great physical and emotional price she had just paid. The Consort moved even nearer to her, supporting her with both hands now. Looking up, Sally smiled at him. "I'm okay, just a few more words and then we're through." He nodded, unable to find any words in this moment. Sally nodded at Theron and readied herself to continue.

"It has not only been my duty to serve you. It has also been my pleasure. My life here has been rich and full. There is nothing more that I could have wanted for my existence.

"As I have prepared to leave you, I have considered who should be your new Matriarch. Two of my Bloodline have expressed a wish to occupy this role. Each has her strengths. Each has her weaknesses. Either of these females could lead you to fulfillment or on to disaster. It has been impossible for me to choose between them. At one point I even considered presenting them to you as a pair so that they could lead you as a duo of Matriarchs."

Sally stopped again as a light chortling went through the hall.

"I know that is impossible. All they would do is fight with each other and you would not benefit from either of them. So I call upon the wisdom of our ancient ways. I call Honorable Blooded Huntresses Ulfrde and Arndís to the kehrite!"

A huge roar of approval shook the edifice and it was some time before Sally could speak again. "As Matriarch, I set the rules!" she commanded, then looked down at her daughters to see a look of near smugness on Ulfrde's face and a look of horror upon Arndís'.

"As you know, each of these combatants is pregnant with a female pup. There are still far too few females to risk endangering them, so the Huntresses will each be padded in d'lex so that a weapon cannot penetrate their vital organs. The first to draw blood will be declared the winner!"

Once more the Great Hall of the High Elders erupted. Like a traveling wave of ants, the Hunters below moved toward the huge arena that adjoined the hall. Her daughters were nowhere to be found, so she assumed that their guard had secured them and moved them to the preparation rooms beneath the arena. As the platform moved back down to the floor of the Hall, Sally felt her legs buckle beneath her and in the same moment felt Aldúlfr's arms pull her up securely to his chest. "It is my honor to carry you," he murmured, following the masses to the arena.

Below the kehrite, Ulfrde and Arndís prepared for non-mortal combat. Sally's Aseigan had been instructed and had brought each female's mask for head protection along with great lengths of that nearly indestructible material known as d'lex. Ulfrde grumbled greatly as she reluctantly lifted her arms for the wrapping. Round and round her the servants went, encircling her abdomen and torso with the dark cloth. "Not so tight!" she rumbled, yanking the fabric from one of the servants. The male apologized and, bowing low, retrieved the material from the Huntress. He wove it over her shoulders and across her chest, carefully covering the mammary glands there. There must be no injury to the pup-feeding tissues. When the Aseigan had finished, Ulfrde began strapping weapons to her body. Daggers and blades were secured in her favorite places. Finally, she grasped her mask and lowered it onto her face. Shaking her locks, she heard them rattle against the mask sides. The tough outer layer of her thick tresses would protect the back of her head. The mask would guard the rest. She growled impatiently at the servants as they scurried to make way for her giant strides as she bounded toward the arena and tried to mold the flurry of thoughts in her mind into a single one - BATTLE.

_How dare she alter our tradition! Yet, I do not wish for my pup to be injured, nor do I wish to injure Arndís' pup. Arndís' blood will anoint my blade! She called us both out – she publicly stated we are both capable but both have weakness. Mom – why did you humiliate me – us? Mom – you are going on Last Hunt. I will miss you. Arndís has always told me that my relationship with my Bearer was special. What's so special about being forced to participate in this humiliating imitation of a real fight? This is not a fight to kill but to draw first blood – I must be wary of Arndís' blades. One small cut to my hand and she wins. She will not win…never!_

Arndís had been horrified at first that she might have to actually fight her sister to the death. Horrified and astounded that her mother was going to permit it. Her fear quickly changed to relief when she realized that Sally had thought of the safety of the pups she and Ulfrde were carrying first. _Was she just as concerned about one of us killing or injuring the other? _

She was consumed by thoughts as she lifted her arms high and allowed the Aseigan to wrap her. She turned carefully and helped them keep the fabric tight as it went around her. _Thank you Mom for thinking of this. Ulfrde will get her fight and our pups will be untouched. I will live to bear and care for my offspring. If this had been a real fight – I do not have any surety that I would win. Ulfrde is so large and her skills are great. I used to know all her moves, but she has had time to learn some new things that I may not anticipate. _The tall Huntress nearly shivered as she envisioned the fight to the death in her head.

The servants finished and handed her several blades which she expertly fastened to forearms, lower back and thighs. The mask was set in place and she nodded her thanks to the servants who backed away. With a heavy heart she took the stairs three at a time up to the arena. _I do not look forward to hurting Ulfrde. For the sake of all Yaut, I MUST win!_

_I know my weaknesses, Mom. I also know Ulfrde's. But I also know of our strengths! Mom – you were right – we would be most formidable and wise if we governed together. But that is not the Yautja way. I MUST WIN!_

From her perch overlooking the kehrite, Sally took in the vast crowd that had gathered to watch two of her daughters fight. Her heart was heavy and she felt sorrow that they were to face each other by her own order. She had tried to tell herself that they had asked for this, as each had claimed her throne. It was small consolation while she steeled herself to see the blood of one of her precious girls spill onto the arena floor. She hoped that it would not be too severe a wound. _What if one of them is maimed? _A laugh sputtered from her mouth as she pictured Ulfrde parading around showing off a fingerless hand and telling everyone how she had fought the Matriarch. _But it won't be that way – Arndís will not win. Not against Ulfrde! Oh Paya, must I watch this?._

Sally felt the bile rise in her throat as the two combatants entered the arena from opposite doors. Clicking rose, along with a tangle of consonants and growls as Hunters cheered for one female or the other and also placed their bets. Ulfrde ignored it all and flexed her arms and legs. She moved her shoulders first up and down, then all around to loosen up. A touch of her hand here and there assured her that all blades were still secure. She knew they were fast but touching them before a fight had become a sort of ritual to her – one last reassurance that all was ready. She was physically prepared but still had not cleared her mind for the fight to come.

Arndís also moved her arms and long legs around to warm up. She stretched her neck from side to side almost unconsciously as her mind tried to form a plan. Her breathing was too tight – too shallow and she was aware that her heart was beating loudly. _In spite of all the protection – she'll try and kill me, _the awful thought wrenched at her and a cold fear crept up her spine, raising the tresses on the top of her head. To the crowd, it appeared as a sign of aggression and loud roars met her display. The din caught her awareness for a moment and she looked around as if dazed, but then regained her focus on the fight ahead. _Where is the simplest place to draw blood? The quickest with the least risk of being injured? _

The crowd saw Ulfrde's muscular form stride proudly to the circle that would define the space for the conflict. She crouched and waited for her sister. The taller Huntress walked with a graceful and regal composure that even Ulfrde noticed. She wondered suspiciously how Arndís could appear so calm in this moment. _I don't want to hurt you sister, but I will to obtain the Matriarchy, _Ulfrde thought. She felt surer of herself now with the dissonance in her mind falling into just this one note. _You will bleed first!_

Arndís also crouched and the two began the ritual circling. The watchers were silent now, respectful of the sacred battle about to unfold before them. They waited in breathless stasis - watching for the first strike, some still holding in their hands the notes for the bets they'd made.

Around and around the sisters cautiously trod. One nimble foot carefully sidestepping over the other, each body positioned over its center, arms spread out and hands ready to grasp the nearest weapon. No growls, no threats were shared between them. Instead, an eerie near silence hung thickly, punctuated only by the sound of stepping feet and the small clacking of tresses with metal rings. Heavy breathing came from the masked mouths as the cold-eyed helms betrayed no emotions. Ulfrde saw a tiny opening in Arndís balance as the tall female's arm crossed her body to reach for a blade located on the inside of her other forearm.

_Stupid move, my sister! _Ulfrde thought gleefully as she pumped her legs to breach the space separating her from Arndís. The sound of her feet hitting the ground was like thunder in the stillness and the metal slide of her blade leaving its sheath was like a beam scraping over the floor. In mid-stride the world went into slow motion. Ulfrde felt herself spring through the air as both feet left the ground. She felt her strong arms automatically assume the killing position with her hands secure around the handle and the sharp tip pointed down to enter the top of the shoulder where her sister's neck sprouted - precisely where the hard tresses had parted ever so slightly. It was not a move that Ulfrde had to think out. She did it automatically – like a born killer. She hovered above her sister, poised for the killing blow, as from somewhere in the back of her mind she heard her own voice screaming – _NO! NO! NO!_

Arndís felt rather than saw her sister become airborne. It was now or never for her to strike! She knew it was risky to reach for the blade and she knew that Ulfrde would not hesitate to exploit any opportunity – no matter how miniscule. _First to draw blood. First to draw blood. First to… _Arndís' mind nearly exploded as she comprehended her Bearer's unconscious genius. In one graceful move Arndís brought the sharp blade down into the palm of her own hand and pulled it across her flesh. Bright verdant blood welled up from the cut, just as she pushed off and rolled away from her sister and the downward pointing blade. As Ulfrde landed on the floor in a thud, Arndís held up her self-wounded hand in victory as her own blood ran down her arm and onto the d'lex.

Hunters stared at each other and at the High Elders in confusion. Growls of bewilderment and anger began to rise but all were stilled when the Leader of the Council of High Elders stood to speak – his arms outstretched in authority. "By the rules of this combat, set forth by the Matriarch, I declare Arndís of the Honorable Bloodline of Ulfr and our Matriarch Sal'lee, the victor. She is the first to draw blood! All kneel to the new Matriarch, Honorable Huntress Arndís!"

The new Matriarch drew herself up with a quiet dignity as the entire perplexed but relieved Hall, including her mother, bent on one knee to her. She looked back at her sister, Ulfrde. There, shaking with some emotion, she also was on a single knee. Backed immediately by several Matriarchal guards, Arndís went to check on her sister. She approached the downed Huntress warily, not knowing how she was taking her loss and the dagger tip that was to be buried in her neck still sharp in Arndís' mind. "Ulfrde, are you alright?" she asked quietly.

The great Huntress was quivering and did not look up in response to her sister. "Ulfrde," Arndís said again, "I respect our law but it was not my wish to injure you or your unborn. Speak to me! Are you alright?"

"H'ko," the rumble came. "Arndís, do not let everyone see me like this!" The pleading of Ulfrde made Arndís realize that something was very wrong. She looked more closely and saw the bone handle of the sharp blade sticking out of her sister's thigh. It had entered where the leg grew from the hip and was very near the groin. It had entered precisely where the d'lex stopped. Arndís knew it was near a vital artery. "Bring Myn'dill at once!" she ordered the nearest guard. He balked for a moment, but rushed away when she growled, "Hurry!"

He was back in a flash with the Elder Healer, who immediately bent over the injured Huntress. He ran a scanner as a look of worry formed on his face. Speaking to the new Matriarch, he said, "This crowd should be dismissed, Honorable Matriarch. I must get Ulfrde to my surgery table if she and her pup are to survive!"

Arndís whirled about and addressed the Leader of the High Elders, also her mate, via her com. Quickly explaining the situation, she turned back to her sister even as the announcement to clear the Hall was made and Myn'dill reassessed the situation. "She cannot be moved far. Place her on this stretcher and we will use the Healer's rooms here off the arena. Move her carefully," he snapped at the guards.

Myn'dill shifted to where Ulfrde, now on the stretcher, was still holding pressure on her wound. With fingers around the knife handle, she pressed into her flesh to stop the green flow. The Healer grunted his approval, "Keep holding." He stayed beside the stretcher as she was lifted and carried, in case she lost her grip on the shaft in her hand. As the stretcher quickly elevated, the hall seemed to spin and Ulfrde thought she might faint. She growled a reprimand at herself and her head seemed to steady. She was aware that Myn'dill was beside her, walking with her, but did not realize that at her growl he had pressed his hand on top of hers. The group entered the Healer's section and transferred her to one of the metal tables. Myn'dill saw to it that she kept the pressure on her thigh even as a warm fur was placed over her. She heard talking, but couldn't make it out. The voices were familiar though - Myn'dill and someone else. She had to blink a few times to clear her vision, but the image of her Uncle Sig'dan appeared before her.

"Uncle Sig'dan!" she whispered and her mandibles opened slightly.

"I am here. Do not worry. Myn'dill and I will take care of you and your pup. Now rest," he ordered as a sedative was administered into her neck. She slipped into slumber, unaware of how serious the situation was.

"I can not simply pull out the knife," the Elder Healer explained. "The blade lies directly on the main artery here. To pull it is to risk a lethal cut. It might not be possible to stop the bleeding before significant damage is done to her and the pup." Sig'dan frowned as he listened.

"What if we press the flat side of the blade into her as it is withdrawn? Will that not allow for some room between the sharp metal and the artery?"

"It is difficult to say," Myn'dill replied. "The tissues have been bruised and are already beginning to swell. Her blade is surgically sharp, Sig'dan. I will run another scan."

It was not long before the two Healers set to work. Younger Sig'dan elected to hold the knife in place, as more experienced Myn'dill dissected the tissues around it. Sig'dan watched the monitor that showed the interior of Ulfrde's leg closely. He dared not move the blade the width of a talon tip.

"There!" the Elder Healer finally announced. "I have separated her tissues down to the tip. Slowly move the blade out." Obediently, Sig'dan began to ease the knife away from the open wound which now allowed it to be pulled straight out without causing further damage. He completed the movement and set the offending weapon on a tray, then turned his attention back to the deep gaping hole in the Huntress' thigh. Myn'dill was already pulling the muscles and nerves back into place and repairing them. The tiny cauterized blood vessels were reopened and also mended with the help of several specialized medical tools. Sig'dan injected Ulfrde to prevent infection and help her system replace the lost blood.

When they had finished only a large dimple marked where the surgery had occurred. "You did not leave a scar," remarked Sig'dan.

"She lost," was the Elder's reply. "What is there to boast of? The depression in her flesh will always remind her of this cycle." He glanced at another monitor, "The pup has apparently suffered no damage. I will keep the Huntress here for a few cycles to ensure their well-being. I will move my sleeping area into the adjoining bay until she has recovered."

"You are the finest Healer on our planet!" Sig'dan praised him. "Sal'lee will rest easy knowing you care for Ulfrde." _Sal'lee! Where is she? Has she left yet? _

"I must find Sal'lee," he muttered to Myn'dill as he ran from the bay.

"I understand," replied the Healer to the swirl of air left by the Hunter's departure.

* * *

"Take me to the ship," she ordered in a whisper. "Ab'bi is there." Theron said nothing as the Consort again hoisted the Matriarch and carried her as one would a small pup. Arndís and her sisters followed them as did all the house guards. They had already said their goodbyes. This was a silent formation of respect which fanned out around the waiting hovercraft outside the Council Hall.

Aldúlfr entered the craft still carrying Sally cradled in his arms. Theron jumped in the piloting seat and they were off. The Hunters that had attended her speech now filled the roadways in great throngs which respectfully parted to let the craft pass. Neither a rumble nor a click could be heard as Theron steered his way to the port.

When they arrived at the transport, Sig'dan was there to meet them. "I was concerned we might miss you," commented Theron.

"Never," was the reply. The trio boarded the ship, nodding respectfully to the already boarded Ab'bi. Sally was gently placed in a specially constructed gurney on the bridge with her head and upper body raised so that she could see and her commands be heard. The Hunter Ab'bi, former second to Honorable Ulfr, bowed respectfully before her. "I am at your command, Honorable Matriarch."

"Ah," she whispered. "Only Sally now. Arndís is Matriarch…" She lifted heavy eyelids and spoke with more strength. "Take me to where Ulfr had his Last Hunt." The Hunter nodded and went to the ship's controls. Sig'dan took Sally's hand and braced himself for takeoff while standing beside her. Aldúlfr took a seat. Within moments they were beyond Yaut's atmosphere and headed toward the Blue Planet.

Sig'dan tended Sally and soon she was sleeping peacefully. He then joined Aldúlfr and Ab'bi by taking the last empty seat. "She sleeps now and will rest for the entire journey. I have administered nutrition and she is getting hydration. It is good to be with you again, Ab'bi."

"I am pleased to be on this mission with you also," he replied. "I am honored to take the Matriarch on her Last Hunt." An unasked question hung in the air.

"What is it, Ab'bi?" Sig'dan queried. "We are Hunt Brothers, you may ask me what you will."

"I was not aware that she hunted."

Both Aldúlfr and Sig'dan clicked in amusement. "She does not," answered Aldúlfr. "So now you must be curious as to this Last Hunt."

"I admit that I am," Ab'bi spoke truthfully.

"Aldúlfr and I are working out the details of that," Sig'dan contributed, and Ab'bi knew then that he would never know what those details were. He was not stupid enough to ask more and invade the trio's privacy.

It was a solemn journey to Earth. The Consort visited Sally's sleeping form daily and inquired to Sig'dan about her health. The rest of the time he kept to himself, or worked out in kehrite. Sig'dan was constantly at Sally's side, even sleeping in a chair with his head on her gurney. He often held her hand and spoke to her. An unspeakable sadness had formed in his eyes that he shared with no one. Ab'bi kept the ship flying and on course. He provided meals at regular intervals but often dined alone.

* * *

The sun was just bursting onto the waving dry grass of the savanna. A few birds flew overhead on their way to morning water. The desiccated blades rustled as insects hopped from one clump to another and a few small nocturnal creatures headed to their daytime burrows. In the clear cloudless sky a small dark dot formed and quickly grew larger. It morphed into a sleek streamlined craft that flew over the grasslands until it abruptly stopped and hovered. No noise came from the alien bird. A group of hyenas had bedded down for the day in the sparse shade of a shrub. They watched the strange sight from afar. Since there was no threat, they remained at rest yet watchful for any approaching danger.

Three masked forms exited the landed craft. One led the group while the other two carried a litter between them which contained a very small form. They walked for a time across the golden flat land until they came to a certain spot between a nearly dry watering hole and a few trees. "You are certain this is the exact place?" a weak voice from the litter inquired.

"Sei, Honorable Sal'lee. The exact place." With a nod to her and the others, Ab'bi turned to walk back to the ship.

"Wait," Aldúlfr called after him, "I will go with you." He and Sig'dan sat the stretcher upon the ground and helped Sally to her tottery feet. The Consort's forehead was knotted and he looked meaningfully at Sig'dan – who returned the look with a nod. So Aldúlfr headed off with Ab'bi.

"This is the place then," breathed Sally. "The place where Ulfr met Cetanu."

"Sei, it is."

"You may leave me here, faithful Sig'dan. I will wait until the Dark One comes for me."

"Very well, my love. If that is your desire."

"It is, and Sig'dan – be well. You have much life left to live. I wish for the rest of your life to be…simply wonderful!" Her eyes shone out with love for him.

"One last request," he begged, "I wish to feel you in my arms once more." She nodded and his strong arms enclosed her as they had so many times before. He ran his talons through her long white hair as she closed her eyes to enjoy the moment. He stroked her face and then her tiny throat. He held her for a long time after that and then finally laid her upon the grass, her back resting against a rock. _It is fitting for you to be here on the planet that birthed you and in the place where my brother met his end. Open your arms wide, Cetanu. A great and honorable Matriarch seeks entrance to your great Hall. _

It took all the discipline he had to turn his back on her. His legs felt like lead as they automatically moved him back to the ship. Once there, he entered via the ramp way. Ab'bi and Aldúlfr were waiting for him. He stood staring at them, no words coming to his mouth. His hand was closed around the small blade that carried crimson blood upon its face.

"Done well?" inquired Aldúlfr

Sig'dan nodded the affirmative.

"Good!" he grunted sorrowfully. "It was a great act of mercy."

Sig'dan was about to walk away but stopped and looked back at the Consort. "H'ko, my Sire. It was an act of love."

Aldúlfr left the ship - a small vial of organic solvent was carried in his waist pouch. He returned a short time later and the ship left as silently as it had arrived.

* * *

The blackness was centered by a small pinpoint of light which grew larger and larger. It felt as though she were floating and then flying towards the light. Suddenly, she was surrounded by brightness and in front of her appeared two hallways – one to the left and the other to the right.

"Choose," a small voice whispered inside her head.

She floated, questioning it. _Choose what?_

"Go and see," the whisper answered.

Sally flew down the corridor to the left which grew amazingly even brighter as she traversed it. She wondered how she was able to tolerate such brightness without going blind. Up ahead an opening appeared and she found herself slowing. Just before the opening, she came to a stop.

"Look," came the whisper.

She did and saw a charming north-country cottage surrounded by tall pines and oaks. _That reminds me of where I grew up! _She kept watching as a man, a women and a young girl came out of the house and set on the front porch. They looked as though they were expecting someone. _Can they see me? _She wondered in her mind.

"They cannot see you," came the voice. "They are waiting for you. You may go through if you choose this."

"Who are they?" she found she could speak aloud.

"Look again."

She did and saw they were her parents, but at a younger and healthier age. _That girl is my little sister! She died when she was about eight! Is this heaven? Am I dead? What happened? Sig'dan?_

Suddenly she found herself drawn back out away from the scene. She was traveling backward through the hallway and the light grew less bright until she was back looking at the two hallways. She looked towards the right, her other choice, and found herself flying down that particular corridor which grew dimmer and dimmer as she went down it. _This is very strange, _she thought.

The hallway soon turned into a landscape and she found herself walking down a stony path towards a great doorway with many carvings in it. The door grew larger and larger as she walked up to it and found that she was too short to reach the door pull which was just beyond the tips of her fingers when she stretched up to grasp it. Puzzled, she studied the art carved in the door. There were great Hunts and battles pictured upon it between strong Hunters, Huntresses and beasts. _Cetanu! I am at Cetanu's door! I did die, but I don't remember it. Ulfr? You must be here! Ulfr! _

Without warning, the heavy door in front of her began to open. She expected it to creak, but it opened without sound. Out of the mist inside, a profoundly familiar muscular arm appeared as though proffered to her. Without a glance backward, she took it and went inside.

"I have been waiting for you," a well-known rumble sounded.

"I know, it just took awhile," she replied and then laughed joyfully.


End file.
